


Shadows of the Past

by LadyLaran, Rogercat



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling, The Hobbit (Jackson Movies), The Hobbit - All Media Types, The Hobbit - J. R. R. Tolkien, The Silmarillion and other histories of Middle-Earth - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Alternate Universe - Reincarnation, F/M, Genderbending, NSFW, Romance
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-12-07
Updated: 2018-04-26
Packaged: 2018-09-07 04:48:26
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 19
Words: 59,822
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8783773
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LadyLaran/pseuds/LadyLaran, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rogercat/pseuds/Rogercat
Summary: All of her life, Hari Potter had been dreaming of places that she vaguely remembers but has never been.  During her third year at school, a great many discoveries are made about her past and these discoveries will have an effect on two different worlds as she fights for freedom and a love that has endured through time and distance.





	1. A New Adventure Begins

**Author's Note:**

> Author’s Note – I was approached not too long ago by the amazing Rogercat about an idea she had. I listened to it, added my thoughts to it and before long, we had a huge wombat on our hands to try to write out and put to rest. It’s been fun working with her so far, and it’s also amazing just how in synch our thoughts are in regards to the characters and how things should go. I’m so happy she emailed me because it gives me a chance to expand my Tolkien knowledge as well as a chance to work with a talented author. 
> 
> A serious thanks goes to my mother for beta reading this.
> 
> Warnings – This is going to be a massive alternate universe for “Harry Potter” and “the Hobbit.” We have a female Harry, massive changes to how things are handled, and an addition to the company of Thorin Oakenshield. Like we said, massive alternate universe so you have been warned!
> 
> Disclaimer – We do not own “Harry Potter,” “the Silmarillion,” and “the Hobbit.”

The sound of the train whistle signaled that it was time for the school train to leave King's Cross Station, and it was the first noise that filled the silent compartment once the teenagers had settled comfortably for their ride to school. It also seemed to alert one particular person that talking was a good idea, and she broke the silence.

“Hari, could you please lower the newspaper for a moment? And Ron, can you wait with the snacks for a moment?” a bushy-haired young girl asked, while the red haired boy beside her took a bite of a piece of chocolate. 

On the seat facing them, a newspaper was slowly lowered to reveal a second girl, with black hair bound in a tight braid that was tossed over one shoulder. The eyes behind her old glasses was green, but what stood out was a scar on her forehead, shaped like a lightning bolt. 

Hari tilted her head, looking at her best friend curiously.

“What is it, Mione,” she asked, folding the paper to set aside so she could focus on the girl.

“You have been reading that muggle newspaper since yesterday; what is going on? It can’t be Sirius Black since what you’re reading isn’t an everyday newspaper.”

Hari held up the newspaper again, revealing it to be a monthly muggle newspaper about the supernatural. It was something she’d stumbled on when she’d looked through the newsstand while waiting for time to board the train.

“That’s a bit unusual for you to be reading, isn’t it,” Hermione asked.

“It is, but something’s been weird lately. You remember me telling you about the dreams I had occasionally as a kid? Well, I’ve been getting more flashes of them lately and was hoping I’d find more information on what they could be,” she admitted. “It’s a bit of a stretch, but no resource goes untapped, right?”

Hermione could see nothing strange in that; she and Ron were used to the fact that Hari had strange dreams at times and really, given that it had been happening to her since childhood, it could mean something. She had to admit she was proud of her friend for taking the initiative to find out what this possibly could be.

“Don’t look at me, I don’t know anything about this.” Ron said. 

Hari laughed softly, used to seeing that look on her friend’s face. Poor Ron, although he was born in a wizarding family, he could be just as clueless as herself and Hermione. She thought it was because they all were still very young, just starting their third year at Hogwarts. 

“Although, speaking of Black, I didn’t tell you guys what Mr. Weasley said to me yesterday,” she told them. “Apparently, Black has stronger ties to my family than I thought and he said he might be looking for me. Figures, right? I can’t seem to have one school year without something going nutty.”

All three of them shuddered at the memory of the first two years at Hogwarts. As if the first one had not been bad enough with the philosopher’s stone, the second one with the basilisk and Chamber of Secrets had been even worse. 

“I’ll be honest with you; with all the shite going on, I’m starting to wonder if transferring to another school out of Europe wouldn’t be a better option for me. Three years of this is too much; our education is suffering for it, and I’m really sick of fighting for my life every year. How’s it possible that we’re the only ones figuring out the plots? I mean, we’re smart but come on!”

At first, Ron and Hermione was shocked by her words. But as they started to think back, it made sense. Perhaps a different school would be better but on the other hand, it would be pretty expensive for the Weasley family to send Ron to a different school.

“If it’s something I can afford, I’ll pay for you two,” she said. “It’s partly my fault your educations got so messed up. The rest is on the teachers for not fixing it and leaving it to students to clean up the mess.”

“Hari, you are the one who started the friendship between you and Ron back on our first journey here to Hogwarts and I ended up joining you two later. This friendship is something neither of us want to give up because it means so much to us. Isn’t that payment enough?”

“Yeah, I think it is. There are others here at Hogwarts who you also protect without knowing about it. Simply being friends with us makes you a head figure for muggle-borns and pure-bloods who don’t act like Malfoy.”

Almost on clue as Ron spoke, said heir to the Malfoy family showed up in the door, holding his head high in his classic high-and-mighty way. Hari glared at him, knowing that she couldn’t allow a fight to break out since there was the presence of the sleeping teacher in their compartment. Fortunately, Malfoy noticed it too and hurried off.

She sighed, looking to her friends.

“I never asked to be the figure-head or any of this. I just want to be a normal teenager,” Hari said. “Who said it was a good idea to drop all this onto the shoulders of a child anyway?”

Neither one of the three spoke, wondering the same thing. Sure, Hari couldn’t help that she was caught in a reputation that had been built up over the last twelve years since her mysterious survival of the Killing Curse, but it was still strange in some way. Why had she, a one-year-old toddler, survived a curse which normally killed everything it was sent at? More to the point, why would a dark lord want to kill a child anyway?

Hari sighed, looking out the window. It was raining, which didn’t bother her too much, but she noticed something odd. The train was slowing down.

“Wait a moment, we shouldn’t be stopping since we’re hours away from the school,” she pointed out, then blinked when the power went out. “What in Merlin’s name?”

Without any logical reason for it, the compartment became unexpectedly cold to the point that the water in Ron’s glass froze to ice and their breaths become smoke. All three of them were freezing in their clothes, which were meant for summer. It was never this cold in September considering it was just the start of autumn! 

Hedwig, Hari’s snowy owl, moved nervously in her cage, and Hermione’s new cat, Crookshanks, hissed from his place in her arms.

“Hermione, can you use that fire spell you used on Snape in our first year? We need to get some heat?” Ron asked with his teeth chattering as he sat at the window. Hari nodded, also wanting some warmth. 

Before Hermione could do as he asked, the compartment door opened and the temperature plummeted. They could barely make out the figure clad in robes, much like the pictures of the grim reaper, and Hari’s breath caught in her throat as it looked at her.

She heard a scream, and something ripping in her mind before it went dark. Her body hit the floor since she was trapped in her mind, unable to break free.

A deep voice spoke, making her ears hurt as it demanded to know where they were. She kept trying to answer, but she felt agony running through her as well as defiance. She had to keep them safe; she had to!

“S-stop...p-please...p-please…!” 

Why was her whole body hurting like it was about to be torn apart? Who did the cold voice belong to? And what or who needed to be kept safe? 

Mentally, Hari moved her lips but no sound came out other than her gasp of pain. Suddenly, the witch felt as if something was hitting her back, almost like a whip and both of her hands felt like that time in preschool when she had broken several fingers in an accident Dudley and his gang of bullies had caused. She felt herself cry out in pain; her lips were forming a name or a word she did not know. The girl only knew that she wanted someone to make it stop hurting!

“Hari! Hari, wake up!”

The familiar voice pulled her out of the dream, and her eyes opened to focus on the worried expressions on the faces of her friends and the man who had been resting in their compartment.

“Wh..what happened,” the girl asked them in a very weak voice. She felt horribly weak, and it was a struggle to simply roll over to sit up. Hari tried to not have her breakfast leave her stomach when a sudden phantom pain in her body nearly overtook her. 

“Dementor,” the man answered. “They feast on your memories, and it can be very detrimental to anyone around them. Here, eat this chocolate and rest. I need to speak to the driver.”

It was obvious he was angry, but he handed the children the bar of Honeydukes’ finest chocolate before leaving. Hari did not trust herself to eat anything yet for a couple of moments, fearing that she would throw up for real if she tried. She raised her hands, which were still trembling, and felt some small relief at seeing that they were unharmed with no sign of injury. It had felt so horribly real, a far more stronger pain what the Dursleys ever had caused. While her aunt, uncle and cousin were far from the nicest people in the world, she had a strange feeling that the person in the dream was far, far worse. 

“Who was he? For some reason he felt familiar,” she murmured to herself, catching Ron and Hermione’s attention.

“He? Who, Hari,” Ron asked.

“I don’t know; it was something that I heard when the dementor thing came in,” she admitted, frowning when he broke a chunk off of the chocolate bar the teacher had meant for her and plopped it into her mouth before she could close it.

At the glare, he shook his head and handed the rest to her.

“Standard treatment for anyone who’s been near a dementor,” he said. “Teacher knows at least one thing. Eat this or you’ll be in your usual bed in the infirmary right when you step foot into the school.”

Hari made a face at hearing that; she had no wish to enter the infirmary on the very first night back at Hogwarts! She slowly ate the chocolate, feeling warmth return to her body.

“It does work,” she murmured between bites. Yet for some reason, the feeling of being in danger did not leave her. 

The train ride went on, and it seemed that the usual energy that filled the train due to the excitement of the students had been dulled a great deal thanks to the dementor.


	2. First Day

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Authors’ Note – I have to say that Rogercat and I are enthused about the reactions we are having to this story. We’re having fun working with this tale, and I can safely say that I have not had this much fun in a long while. I’m really glad she chose me to share her idea with.
> 
> Disclaimer – We do not own “Harry Potter,” “The Hobbit,” or “the Silmarillion.” We definitely are not making money from this either!

School started as it usually did but with a slight difference. Madam Pomfrey had heard of the exposure they’d had to the dementor and was pleased to find that the new professor had known how treat the issues caused by the foul creatures. She’d deemed them healthy and let them go to the sorting, which had been rather subdued due to the announcements Dumbledore had given regarding the creatures who would be stationed by the gates of Hogwarts.

“Everyone’s not happy about the dementors being here,” Ron murmured, eating a bite of roast chicken. “Can’t say that I blame them.”

Hari nodded absentmindedly; she didn’t have much of an appetite due to the shock from the dementor was still present. Realizing this, Hermione filled her friend’s plate with light foods that would not trouble her stomach and both she, Ron, and the twins nudged her to eat when she stopped. Yet, Hari could not bring herself to eat much. 

“Is your cousin on that diet again,” he asked, leaning in to whisper. Ron knew Hari didn’t get much to eat, and he had his mother send care packages once a week to ensure his friend had the proper amount of food to eat. How anyone expected her magic to rest when she was constantly being starved, he didn’t know. He and Hermione had spent the summer trying to come up with ways to get her out of there.

“No, it is just the event on the train made me lose appetite, that’s all. No need to worry,” she answered.

Hermione resolved to ask a house elf for ginger tea and some toast so Hari would have something in her stomach when she went to bed that night. She frowned, nodding at her friend’s explanation, and she ate her own meal. The talk of Black and dementors was off putting, but she knew it would be a popular pair of topics for a while. In a way, she agreed with Hari, it was getting to be ridiculous in how each year seemed to be another set of problems.

For some reason, Hari could not stop thinking of the male voice that had screamed in such horror in her dream. Oddly enough, it felt as she had been incredibly familiar with that voice but had somehow forgotten the owner of it. At the same time, she didn’t think it belonged to her dead father, James; it had sounded far deeper and much more mature than the voice of a young man in his twenties. As far as she had managed to find out, due to eavesdropping on Aunt Petunia once, her maternal grandparents had died before her birth. The same with James’ parents, according to the quick look she had taken at the pure-blood family trees she had seen on a wall in the history classroom. So who was the owner of the voice she’d heard screaming? 

Ron and Hermione could see she was deep in thought and gently guided her to the tower once the students had been dismissed. They sat her in a chair near the fire, waiting for the prefects to address the group. Once alone, they would try to find out what it was that was troubling their friend so deeply. 

The pair were quick to question their friend after everyone had headed up to their dorms to unpack and sleep. Hari wasn’t able to answer outside of what she’d heard, and both of her friends were confused but promised to help research into it.

That night, after everyone went to bed, Hari dreamed. She could tell it wasn’t a normal dream. She could feel a big hand keeping a steady grip around hers, see a flash of black hair escaping from a braid, hear a high sounding laugh from herself as she felt the movement under her and the barking from a big dog, then a worried voice telling the dog to slow down before she fell off its back. The scene shifted into a room that held a forge and a lot of precious gems and metals that sat on various tables and shelves. She felt that it was familiar too and concluded that she must have been there almost everyday to work. The final image before her alarm woke her was of a bearded male face, dark blue eyes filled with gentleness, and intricate braids that framed the handsome visage.

“Hari, you okay,” Hermione asked, pausing in brushing her bushy hair so it did not look untamed, far from an easy task with how thick it was. Hari looked around, confused at first because she just had woken up. Why was she not at the forge? 

She shook her head, clearing it, and went into the bathroom to wash up for the day. After dressing, she braided her hair, adding several smaller braids near her temple and pulling it back to mingle with the main one she usually wore. It was a new style, but it felt familiar and right to have those small braids. The green eyed witch thought it looked nice, felt a little more mature in having them, as if they marked something special. 

Parvati, who came in to brush her teeth, noticed the change from the usual braid. 

“It looks nice,” she said, giving a rare compliment to the other. “I like the smaller braids. Gives some definition to your hair before being braided into your usual braid. I think you should keep them.”

Hari just smiled, pleased the other thought them to be a nice touch as well. Parvati and Lavender were the more vain of the girls of their year, but they knew what looked nice. Given she had no one to teach her about dressing up as Aunt Petunia clearly thought that her niece didn’t need to know anything about it, it pleased her to know that this change was one the others might like and it made her feel good to be a little different this time around. 

In many ways, Hari chose to keep the simpler styles, not wearing make up and using a single braid, because she wasn’t used to the idea of dressing up to make oneself feel better. All the girls in their dorm, even Hermione at times, did it, and it baffled her somewhat. Aunt Petunia did not like make-up and refused to teach Hari to use it, having once said that it was hopeless to try to make herself pretty since the girl was incredibly plain. Hari thought it was more the case of not wanting to be outshone by her niece since Petunia was somewhat homely looking with her rather horse-like long face. Truth be told, it wasn’t as if her aunt had to really work at impressing her husband since Vernon looked like a walrus so they were pretty matched, and Dudley seemed to look like a human pig at times. 

She was pulled from her thoughts when she heard her friend call that she was ready to go. Hari hurried into the bedroom to grab her book bag.

“Ready, Mione,” she answered. 

“Good, me too,” Hermione smiled. “I wonder what class we’ll have after breakfast?”

“I don’t really care as long as it’s not potions or history; I don’t think I can handle either early in the day.”

“I don’t blame you,” her friend answered. Not a single member of the trio were fond of those lessons since Snape always seemed to target Hari for some reason. They’d overheard some of the Slytherins commenting on it, sounding baffled too since teachers were not supposed to hold politics against their students. Well, Hari refused to let Snape win by not giving anything to browbeat her with by ensuring her penmanship was legible and clean, having a student of a higher year look over her essays, and making sure that she bottled more than one vial of potion they made that day so he couldn’t engineer an accident with the original one. If he had a problem with her, why could he not explain it properly instead of attacking her in class as he did?

Hari was pulled from her thoughts when she heard Ron greet them in the common room. She smiled, answering him back and realizing her friend looked a bit anxious for some reason.

“Everything okay, Ron?”

“Yeah, just heard some odd comments earlier that made me mad. Some of the students are thinking its your fault the dementors are here since Black is after you.”

“What?” 

Something in Hari’s chest went cold. She remembered how she had been treated like an outcast last year by nearly the whole school when everyone had thought her to be the Heir of Slytherin. Would it happen again? 

Hermione put her hand on her friend’s shoulder, squeezing gently to try to comfort her. She knew what Hari was thinking about, and she didn’t want the girl worrying about it.

“We’ll work together to see that doesn’t happen again,” she reassured her. “We’ll make sure the kids of our year understand you didn’t know who this guy was until a few days ago.”

“Thank you, Mione, and Ron, thanks for warning me about this. At least I won’t be taken by surprise when the accusations start flying.” 

She gave him a light touch on the cheek, knowing that he would need some form of reassurance this morning, especially as there was a high risk of Fred and George doing a prank just to “celebrate being back at school” as was their usual habit.

Ron smiled, nudging her with his shoulder. He’d told Hermione several times that he’d wished Hari was his sister for real since she seemed to really understand him more than his brothers and Ginny did. Hermione also agreed with him on that she would like to have Hari as a sister. Being an only child was very lonely at times, especially when she was home alone during the holidays when her parents were at their clinic. 

The trio headed to the Great Hall, side stepping people who wanted to ask about Sirius Black and guiding the first year students who were lost to where breakfast was served. They took a seat at the table, and the girls poured themselves some tea while accepting a glass of milk on the side.

Because of not eating well the night before, Hari put scrambled eggs, bacon, mushrooms, and fruit on her plate. Hermione and Madam Pomfrey had insisted she eat well and as healthy as she could when at school to try to counter the limited amounts of food she received during the summer breaks. Her best friend would send fruit and dairy products under special stasis charms so Hari could have some semblance of healthy food during the break.

One of the prefects passed out the time tables, and they smiled in relief. They didn’t have history or potions until tomorrow.

“Transfiguration first thing in the morning,” Ron said. “Well, at least Professor McGonagall is interesting enough to keep us from falling asleep in class.”

“Thank goodness,” Hari said, wiping her mouth after drinking her milk. “I’m not sure I could handle certain classes during the morning hours. Speaking of which, Mione, are we doing self study again this year for history and potions? If we are, I thought we could add Runes to it so we can compare notes.”

“I hope so,” the red head answered before Hermione could. “The only reason I passed either class was due to the self study we did.”

“Let me see how our schedules work out with your quidditch schedule, and I’ll get back to you on that. Will you talk to Oliver today to see if he’s got the schedule ready?”

“Yeah, I’ll hunt him down before the day ends,” she answered Hermione. “He should still remember the lecture you gave him about how academics are more important and make sure we have time to study.” 

That had been a funny scene to watch back in their first year; Hermione had hit the roof when she’d found Hari and a few other members of the team studying long after most of the Gryffindor students had been in bed. She’d reamed Oliver Wood out the very next day while in the Great Hall, and McGonagall had supported the unhappy Hermione. Since that day, Oliver had to have the training schedule approved by their head of house because he was known to go overboard and forget that academics were more important than a game.

The trio laughed at the memory before Ron changed the subject.

“You two sleep all right last night? The dementors can be known to cause nightmares,” he asked, worried for his two friends.

“I slept fine,” Hermione answered. “Hari?”

“To be honest, the dreams I had were really odd. I think some of them were memories from when I was little, but they were mostly images and a few sounds I dreamed something about riding a dog, being told to be careful; things like that. The rest of the dreams I couldn’t make head or tails of. There were faces of people and places that I know I’ve never seen or been before but seem so blasted familiar.”

The bushy haired girl frowned, and Ron shook his head.

“I know that look; we’ll be in the library after class,” he said, worried for his friend. 

Even though his dreams were different, he could sympathize with Hari about weird dreams. Ron had also been having one unpleasant nightmare about an event from last year when he and Hari had been forced to enter the Forbidden Forest. They’d gone in to find those horrible giant spiders in order to find what kind of monster it had been in the Chamber of Secrets. Thankfully neither Hari or Hermione saw any fault with him suffering from arachnophobia, not after learning that it actually had been Fred and George’s fault for his fear by transforming Ron’s teddy bear into a giant spider when he was just three years old. 

The topic soon changed, and the trio enjoyed their breakfast. They hurried off to the classroom assigned for their transfiguration’s class, not wanting to be late.

During the lesson, no one was surprised that Professor McGonagall reminded them that every school year would be more difficult than the ones prior. As usual, their poor fellow Gryffindor, Neville Longbottom, ended up getting into some trouble in this lesson, happening to somehow transform Hari’s hair into snow white before Hermione transformed it back into its normal black color. Ron, who had actually figured out how to get the spell to work properly at the same time as his friends, whispered advice in their shy friend’s ear in hopes of helping him perform the spell their head of house had taught them that morning.

Hari, watching them, leaned over and murmured quietly to Hermione.

“I think we should invite Neville to our study group,” she told her friend. “He could use the help, and it’d be good for Ron to have a male friend. Neville doesn’t spend enough time with us, and this might help him get more confident too.” 

Neville was a good friend to all three of them, and the other girl agreed as she knew it would be a good way to help boost their shy friend’s confidence. It would do him good to have help with the subjects he was taking.

By the time the lesson ended, Neville had gotten the transfiguration done and was beaming when the bell heard. Ron, who Professor McGonagall had noticed helping the other boy, had been awarded five points for his kind act in helping a fellow classmate.

Needless to say, there were two pleased boys escorting the girls to their next class. Hari looked at their time table and smiled.

“DADA next,” she said. “I wonder what this new teacher is like?”

“We’ll find out soon,” Neville said as they went down the stairs. “Hopefully, he’s nice as well as interesting.”

“Merlin knows he can’t be worse than Lockheart,” Ron grumbled. “Hopefully, we’ll actually learn something this year outside of how to smile for a camera.”

The group laughed and agreed, knowing the teacher last year had been atrocious. As they headed into the classroom, they crossed their fingers for luck and hoped that the lesson would actually be a good one.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Authors’ End Note - Rogercat and I want to thank you for reading this latest chapter and hope that you enjoyed it. Please share your thoughts with us! See you next week! ~ Rogercat & Laran


	3. Boggart Disaster

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Author’s Note - Rogerat and I are so amazed and happy with the reception the story is getting so far. You guys have been awesome, and we thank you so much for your kind words and for giving the story a chance. Merry Christmas, Blessed Solstice, and happy holidays from both of us to all of you!
> 
> Disclaimer – We do not own “Harry Potter,” “the Hobbit,” or “the Silmarillion.” We don’t make money from this either.

The classroom had been decorated with all kinds of interesting teaching aids, but everyone was quick to notice that the desks had been removed. Before any comment could be made on it, their teacher came out of a side room and smiled at the group.

“Before I call roll, I shall introduce myself to you. I am Professor Lupin, a graduate of Hogwarts, and I shall be your teacher for this year. While I am fairly easy going, I will not have any of the house rivalries in this classroom; we are here to learn so that you can protect yourself in the future. Am I understood?”

“Yes, sir,” everyone said together. 

“Very good,” he replied, then began calling roll. 

Once that was done, he looked to his students to begin the lesson he had prepared for the day.

“This class will have more practical work than you have been used to,” he began. “Today we will start with a creature that, while fairly simple to handle, can be rather insidious in how it works. Who can tell me what a boggart is?”

As usual, Hermione was eager to show what she knew for a teacher and raised her hand. The teacher called on her, and she answered in a clear voice.

“A boggart is a creature that takes on the form of what you fear most.”

“Very good, Miss Granger,” the teacher replied. “Now, the best way to handle one of these is laughter. This creature cannot abide laughter; it weakens it. So, when you come across one and it takes the form of something you are afraid of, picture something utterly silly with that image, and then use the following incantation.”

After giving it to them with the proper wand movement, he had them repeat it several times, making sure everyone could pronounce the word properly before levitating a trunk out into the center of the classroom. Neville was first to go against the creature, and the whole class got into a serious laughing fit at seeing his boggart first transform into Snape, only to suddenly become dressed in some clothes that Neville’s grandmother was known to wear according to himself. 

A few other students went after Neville, and then Hari stepped up to take her turn. The boggart shifted a few moments as if undecided what form it should take. A blond male soon was seen with piercing golden eyes that seemed to stare right into her soul. Seconds later, that figure disappeared into an eye, wreathed in flames, with rings circling around it. 

“No....no...no...” 

Hari whispered in growing horror as a larger ring was seen in the middle of the eye’s pupil, and her heart seemed to spasm in her chest. She knew this for some reason but didn’t know why. Words in two languages, one Hari somewhat recognized, filled the classroom. That was when she screamed a blood-freezing scream filled with terror; something no one had heard ever from her before she cried out words that made no sense to the group.

“NO!! NO, NO NO!! GET AWAY FROM ME, ANNATAR!!”

She tried to throw herself back, to get away but was frozen in fear, her green eyes wide and unable to look away from the burning eye of fire. Realizing she couldn’t react, Ron put himself in between his friend and the boggart. The creature immediately shifted into the form of the giant spider that haunted his dreams, and he cast the incantation that soon had roller skates on each leg, causing it to spin wildly before falling. Lupin took the chance to temporarily seal the boggart in a wardrobe close-by, alarmed by her extreme reaction. 

“Hari!”

What was meant to be a calming touch on her shoulder from Hermione had the opposite effect on her. As if the touch broke a trance, Hari jumped in fright before running out from the classroom.

“Miss Granger, go after her and escort her to the hospital wing. Mr. Weasley and Mr. Longbottom will bring your things there,” he ordered, not commenting when she ran out of the classroom.

As the class continued, the students stared at each other and not even Malfoy dared to comment on the reaction their famous classmate had given to the boggart. Clearly it was something she was terrified of, and the eye had actually frightened more than just Hari.

Hari ran until that she came to one of the girl’s toilets, namely the one which was haunted by the absent Moaning Myrtle where she lost her breakfast. She was still being sick when Hermione came in, and the bushy haired girl pulled a few pieces of paper towel out of the dispenser and dampened them. One was settled on the back of Hari’s neck while the other was used to clean her friend’s face.

Hermione said nothing, letting her calm down before helping Hari to her feet.

“We’re going to the hospital wing,” she said. “You need a calming potion and something to settle your stomach. If Madam Pomfrey is all right with letting you go after that, we’ll get you something light to eat before going outside for some sunshine to help you relax.”

“No...not outside...not outside...he will come...he will come…!”

Hari did not know why she spoke like that, instinctively knowing that the blonde man was a danger, far more deadly than what Voldemort was. She had a growing feeling of needing to hide underground, somewhere deep, in a place built of stone...like the Chamber of Secrets.

Her friend looked her in the eye for a moment before nodding.

“Okay, not outside,” she promised. “However, you do need a calming potion and something to help your stomach so we’re going to the hospital wing now like the professor said. Neville and Ron are bringing our bags to us after class. Think you can make it if you lean on me?”

Hari nodded faintly, not trusting herself to speak much yet, and she leaned into her friend as they left the bathroom to head to the hospital wing. Once they reached the infirmary, Madam Pomfrey greeted them and helped the girl reach a bed.

The medi-witch ran a few scans and frowned.

“You are magically exhausted, young lady,” she said. “What happened?”

“On the lesson...boggart…blonde man...an eye of fire...” Hari gasped, feeling like she would faint. 

“Hari faced the boggart and had a very bad reaction to what the creature showed her,” Hermione explained, seeing that the other girl was too emotional to make much sense.

Madam Pomfrey ran another scan, frowning even more. She shook her head, summoning several potions.

“Take this first,” she said, handing her a vial. “It’s a calming potion. Boggart? A boggart should not be making her react like this. You can go, Miss Granger. Miss Potter will be staying the night, and I will make sure her teachers know she will not be in her afternoon classes.”

Hari made a face. Great, it was only the first day back at Hogwarts and she was already landed in the hospital wing. 

“Yes, Madam Pomfrey, may I return later with her assignments?”

“I’d prefer you didn’t,” she answered Hermione. “She needs rest, and fretting over assignments will not allow her to do so.”

There was something haunting in the way Hari’s eyes looked, and Madam Pomfrey did not like it at all. She had seen a lot of things, but this was something she’d not come across during her many years as a medi-witch. The matron would do what she could to help her rest and allow her magical core to recover; she just hoped that the poor child would eventually be able to have a school year without something going wrong. 

The reaction Hari had reported was unusual, and she knew there was no reason for the girl’s core to be so depleted. There were, of course, rare cases where a dark spirit took control over a magical child because of its magical powers, which caused a magical core to drain fast, but it was nearly unheard of since the World War II, where Muggles and Wizard-kind alike had been the victims of a lot of spirits unable to be laid to rest because of horrible deaths or very dark powers. Her scans were not showing any signs of this though, and the matron was not pleased to have more questions than answers show up. 

“Not outside...dangerous...safe...hidden...underground…” 

The way Hari mumbled to herself, as if she tried to talk herself into accepting something, was odd too. 

Madam Pomfrey frowned, finally spelling the calming potion into her patient’s stomach when it became apparent the child wasn’t able to take it herself. She also added a few others, not liking how disconnected the girl was from reality. The matron heard the other girl leave, and she kept herself focused on her patient. 

The news about Hari’s reaction to the boggart did not remain hidden by the students at Hogwarts. As Hermione walked to the library, Ron hurried up to her with the report that people were already gossiping about their friend’s issues in DADA that morning.

“Oh great! I tend to forget that Hogwarts means no privacy when people need it,” she grumbled, calming when the redhead put a hand on her shoulder.

“If it gets too bad, we’ll set them straight,” he promised. “Now, what are we looking for? How is she?”

“Not too good, she went into some form of shock afterward and got sick in the girl’s bathroom. I get the feeling that the blonde man and that eye of fire are more frightening for Hari than the idea of facing Voldemort.” 

“She’s never freaked out that much, even when Voldemort was involved,” he pointed out as they entered the library. “So where are we starting?”

“Dreams,” Hermione said. “We’ll start there, and see what we find. One way or another, we’re going to get her the answers she needs.”

Ron nodded, this was not normal, not the way Hari dreamed or her reaction to the boggart. He might not be the smartest one of his many siblings, but he knew more things than what people believed from his school grades. It just needed to be something that caught his attention in a good way. 

“Hey, Hermione. Speaking of dreams, I just remembered that I once heard Bill mention something that dreams sometimes actually can be linked to a past life. It can be someone a person misses without really remembering who they are. With that logic, you’d think she would have been dreaming about someone who makes her happy instead of screaming in terror,” Ron said, putting down several thick books about the subject of dreams on a table. 

“What is the stance of the wizarding world on reincarnation as well as soulmates,” she asked, tugging some books down before sitting at the table.

“Well, I have read about some so-called “Dream mediums” or “Dream seers” who are said to be able to open up a door to the other side for a small time, but reincarnation? I don’t remember what Bill said about it; I overheard part of the conversation, but I was nearly half-asleep and only eight years old back then!” Ron groaned, running fingers through his hair in anger over that he had not listened better. 

“The fact that you remembered that at all is good,” she said, frowning at the books before getting up. “See what you can find here; I’m going to see if there’s any books on past lives and reincarnation. There’s gotta be something!” 

Ron nodded, opening one of the books to the index, trying to see if the book had anything on dreams of past lives while Hermione went to look for any material on the subject they’d been discussing. 

It took her a while, but she came back with four books. Two were rather thick, and the other two looked to be more like published essays on the subject.

“Madam Pince said this was all Hogwarts had on the topic,” she said, sinking into a seat. “I may have to write home and ask my mother to do some research for me. She’s into this kind of thing.”

“Can you ask her if the name Annatar can be found too? That was the name Hari screamed so it’s got to mean something,” he suggested.

“I can try, but that’s not exactly a muggle name. It sounds like something out of a fantasy novel honestly,” she answered, opening a book. 

“Well, we suffered a war with a lunatic naming himself Voldemort so it might mean something, don’t you think? Anyway, it seems to explain why Hari hates blonde guys like Malfoy: it’s possible there’s a memory of a blonde guy harming her once, perhaps when she was really small. From what I saw in old newspapers, Voldemort was more snake-like in his face and bald during the last part of his life. That blonde guy was handsome in an inhuman way.”

With that comment said, Ron looked through another book. 

Hermione didn’t really answer, taking notes occasionally as she read through the books. They’d been at it for nearly two hours before her posture changed, and she looked up at her friend.

“I think I found it. According to this author, Nicholas Weatherby, every soul does not go to heaven or hell after death. It’s the belief of those who study the ancient religions that a soul continues on into the next life once it has a brief time to rest from the pains of the one it just left. It’s his belief that this world is not the only one created; he thinks that there are worlds all over the place and souls move from one world to another if something needs to be learned or achieved in a different world from where the soul had originally been,” she said to him.

Ron frowned, listening to her explain what she was reading. It made sense, especially given what they’d seen and heard. As far as he knew, rings and fiery eyes were not common in magical history here. When he pointed this out, Hermione nodded, making notes on that too.

“We’ve got a few more hours,” he said. “Let’s keep reading so we can have answers for Hari when she gets out of hospital wing?”

The pair went back to work, hoping their friend would get the rest she needed while they went through the research.

Unknown to her two best friends, Hari had once again fallen asleep and in her dreams, she could hear an argument.

“I am not coming with you!”

“Are you defying me, son!? Are you forsaking the quest to reclaim your grandfather’s greatest treasure?” 

“Not when it is a path filled with the blood of our own relatives! Finrod was your own cousin, for Eru’s sake! No, Curufinwë Atarinkë, you are no longer a father of mine! The father who once raised me is no more, he died the moment you and all my uncles chose to swear the oath that will end your lives!” 

“Telpërinquar, I am warning you…!”

“No, from this moment on, I forsake the House of my birth! I will not take part in an oath which will end up destroying us! I am not going to allow the Dark Lord a chance use our own words against our kin, to become Kinslayers once more!” 

Hari suddenly opened her eyes, awakening from the dreams. It was the voice from her dream when the dementor had arrived on the train. Only that this time, it had sounded angry, honestly furious to the point that the male owner likely would have been at a high risk to lash out towards someone or something. There was something about that angry voice made her heart ache with sorrow and regret as if someone close to her had passed away a long time ago and the pain still remained if dulled. It was a pain she didn’t understand since she did not even know who he was! 

Dark Lord - was she haunted by Dark Lords everywhere? It wasn’t fair, she thought. Life should not be so full of dangerous people, especially when they target a child. She should be enjoying school, not trying to fight for her life every day! 

She lay there, trying to sort her thoughts out, but was soon asleep again. This time it was dreamless and allowed her to finally rest.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Author’s End Note - Hopefully, this sheds a little light on what’s going on with our favorite witch. We’re not giving up too much just yet as we’re having fun setting things up. We hope you enjoyed this; please let us know what you thought of the chapter and story so far. We also ask that all of you be safe and warm during this holiday. See everyone next Wednesday! ~ Laran & Rogercat


	4. Research Report

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Authors’ Note - We’re so very happy with the feedback we’re getting for this tale. We can’t thank you enough for taking a chance on it. I hope everyone had a great holiday and will be safe for the new year! 
> 
> Disclaimer - We do not own “Harry Potter” or “the Hobbit,” and neither of us makes money from this story.

The next morning, which was thankfully a Saturday, Hari left the hospital wing to find Ron and Hermione waiting for her by the doors. Both were carrying book-bags and had looks on their faces that told her they’d done research and found something they felt was important. She felt relieved to know that they’d been able to find something and hoped it would be helpful to the situation she was facing.

“All right, Hari,” Ron asked, pulling her from her thoughts.

“A bit better than yesterday,” she answered truthfully. “Madam Pomfrey said my core was filling back up, but I’m not to use any magic until Monday when I come back to see her before classes. My sleep last night had been all kinds of restless though.”

Mentally, she tried to force herself to picture an image of the face that must belong to that male voice she’d heard in her dreams. She was certain that she knew it so why was she unable to see his face? 

“We did some research yesterday and found some things we need to talk about,” Hermione said. “Do you want to go outside to sit in our favorite spot near the lake? It’s a nice day today, and some sunshine and fresh air will do us all some good.”

“I think it’s a good idea, Mione. Let me get some tea and food, and I will come,” Hari nodded, heading to the Great Hall with her friends.

The trio conversed about the classes she had missed yesterday afternoon, and the dark haired witch was grateful they understood her need for a distraction. After entering the massive room, they took a seat at Gryffindor’s table. Hari reached for a cup to pour herself some tea, needing the warmth of hot beverage as well as the caffeine boost. Oddly, when she started to drink it, something unusual happened to her. Something was missing in the tea; it was too bland in taste. It should have a stronger taste of wild berries as well as something else she couldn’t quite name. It wasn’t sugar since she was not fond of sweets and not milk. It couldn’t be lemon either as she didn’t like the tart fruit. 

“Is there any alcohol here?” she wondered aloud before realizing what she had just said. 

“You know better than to ask that,” Hermione said, surprised but not questioning her about the odd comment. “We’re underage anyway.”

Hari sighed, eating her meal and drinking her tea quickly so she wouldn’t have to think about why the tea tasted so off to her today. Once she was done, the trio headed outside to their favorite spot to spend time together when the weather allowed them to do so. After getting comfortable on the blanket Ron had brought, the green eyed witch turned her eyes to her friends.

“Right, what did you find?”

“Well, there was not much, which rather surprised me considering this could be something taught in Divination or might have been taught in the past in other classes. Despite the limited amount of sources in the library, we found a book that held an interesting theory that might be applicable to what you’re going through. The author suggested that reincarnation is possible and posited that souls can travel to worlds that are different from where they originally started. It’s why a person can dream of places that are not familiar to others but the dreamer could almost describe what’s just beyond the horizon. The name you spoke in class isn’t known in any language so your soul must be remembering something from a past life that was lived in a different world,” Hermione said.

“The dreams you were talking about earlier on the train had to be images from that life poking through,” Ron continued. “Normally, people don’t remember much from past lives so their current life isn’t influenced too much by the past. Yours must have been something really incredible to be showing up so strongly and if you add to the fact that your life has been full of traumatic events, it’s possible your mind is a bit more open to those memory fragments from your past life.”

“Mind you, it’s all theoretical and the only person we might have been able to go to for this is known to be a sherry drinking fraud,” the bushy haired girl finished. “I think it’s sound though; it’s the only explanation that fits.”

Hari said nothing, only stared at them in shock as she processed the information her friends had given her. Somehow, it all made sense in a weird way. If their theory was true, could that deep voice in the argument from her dream belong to the man who had been her father in her past life? The other voices had also been familiar and in languages she could swear she knew. Then there was the bearded face of a smaller male who had made her feel happy and safe. 

“You’re right; it does fit. I just wish I knew what to do with this knowledge now that we have it,” she told them. “It’s freaking me out having these dreams and being afraid of something I don’t really remember or understand. To be honest, I don’t want to take this to a teacher or to Dumbledore given the issues we’ve had over the past few years. The last thing I need is for them to think I’ve cracked or something.”

“Mione and I agreed on that,” Ron informed her. “We spoke a bit on the issues we’ve had since starting school, and there’s no telling what the teachers will do if this is brought to them. We thought it best to handle it ourselves if we can. There’s got to be some means of controlling the dreams and memories that show up.”

“Like I said, there’s not a lot of information available here at school,” Hermione continued, nodding to show she agreed with Ron’s words. “I hope you don’t mind; I borrowed Hedwig and sent a letter home to ask my mum to find what she could on the subject. It’s strange that muggles have more about reincarnation than wizards do.”

“I think you two are right about keeping this to ourselves. People think the three of us are weird enough as it is, and that’s just the opinions of the students here. I just hope that no one outside Hogwarts learns about this; I don’t even want to think of what people would say if they learns what my boggart is!” 

“Truthfully, Hari, everyone in our class had weird ones,” Ron reassured her. “You can always say it came from a book or one of those film things that Hermione’s talked about before.”

“Horror movie sounds plausible or a fantasy novel,” the brown eyed girl agreed. “I’ve had nightmares after reading some really creepy stories, and I’ll be willing to bet the other students have too. If we use that as a cover story, I doubt too many people will say much about it.”

Hari gave a strained smile at their suggestions. She did remember how both she and the rest of her school class had been shocked by the contents of a horror movie that had actually been meant for adults. The accident had happened a few days before Halloween when she was eight, caused by the mistake of a young teacher who had thought it was a children’s movie. She and Dudley had suffered nightmares every night from that day until Christmas that year. 

Looking back at it now and thinking of a possible past life, something in a movie or book she’d read might have triggered her old memories in some way. It was also possible that her close relationship to Ron may hold a deeper meaning, that she had known some other red haired people in her past life who had been important to her. Not siblings, she could almost say that without any doubt but possibly some kind of relative or close friends to her back then. 

“Well, that sounds better. I’m glad you thought of it,” she told her friends, making Ron grin for a moment. It was pleasant for him to actually feel like they did listen to him, given how rare it was to happen in his family.

“I’m hoping the books my mother sends might help us in giving us some idea how to control the dreams,” Hermione said. “If not, I’ll keep digging in the library for that.”

“Good luck,” Ron commented as he pushed his hair out of his eyes, reminding himself to cut it one day soon. 

“Well, there’s got to be something,” their friend said. “Magic is about control and discipline so it stands to reason that there would be a way to handle dreams to at least some level.”

Hari gazed up towards the sky above the castle, the clouds slowly flying past. It was an honest pity that her third year at Hogwarts would begin like this when all she wished for was a normal school year without anything crazy happening to herself or her two best friends. 

“Still if a dementor was “needed” to make me start remembering more deeply, something horrible must have happened to me in a past life, right? On the train, I had a strange feeling of my hands being ruined as if my fingers were all broken due to having a hammer fall down on them. It felt like my hands were a necessary part of my past identity given how much grief and anger I was feeling when that sensation came over me.”

She held up her hands in front of her face, fingers spread wide so she could see all of them. 

“Could be you were an artist or something in the past,” Ron suggested. “I think the important issue here is the problem with the dementors. The headmaster said they were going to be stationed here at Hogwarts; that could be a trigger for you, and we need to find a way to protect you from them.” 

“I’ll add that to my list of things to research,” Hermione said, knowing their male friend had the right idea. “One or all of us should speak to Professor Lupin about it too. He was able to drive that horrible thing off on the train so he must have some idea of what we can do to protect ourselves.”

“I think it’s time for my twin brothers to help us; Percy might be useful too,” Ron muttered, knowing that Fred and George could be surprisingly useful to have as brothers despite all their pranks and teasing. 

“Might need to have all of us sit them down and see what they have to offer,” the brown eyed girl said. “No sense in not tapping all of our sources, right?”

Nodding in agreement, the trio raised to their feet, leaving to try and find the Weasley twins and the eldest brother somewhere in the school. They just hoped that something could be found to help Hari get through this, and they were determined not to stop looking until she was protected!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Author’s End Note - It’s moving forward a bit; we’re having to do a lot of set up to get things progressing, but we’re satisfied with how it’s going. Thank you for reading and let us know what you think of it. See everyone next week! ~ Laran & Rogercat


	5. Quidditch Disaster

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Author’s Note - First of all, we hope you have had a happy new year! Thank you so much for coming in to read our story! There was a mention of things being a bit disjointed. I am not an expert in coding and realized the flashbacks aren’t set off as they are in the document we’re working on. So from this point forward, if you see ** then please note it’s a flashback. Maybe that’ll help? Here’s hoping! 
> 
> Disclaimer – We do not own “Harry Potter,” “The Hobbit,” or “the Silmarillion.” We don’t make money from this story.

Hari stood in the locker room of the quidditch team, listening to Oliver prattle on with his usual pre-game speech. He still hadn’t quite mastered the art of giving speeches, not that he would have been able to considering the twins plus the chasers had been heckling him the entire time. Finally, Oliver gave up and the team headed out to the pitch.

“Hari, just remember what we said,” Fred called to her. “Try to keep calm and keep a sharp eye out, just in case. McGonagall said the dementors shouldn’t be near the game, but better safe than sorry.”

Hari nodded, glad for the reminder as well as the show of brotherly concern for her safety. So far, the school year had gone reasonably well if one didn’t count the events with the dementor and the boggart. The dementors had been an issue for her, and she’d spoken with the twins as well as the defense teacher about the problem. The twins had recommended meditation in order to help calm her emotions down since that could be part of what drew the vile beings to her. Ron and his brothers had taught her and Hermione how to do it, and it had helped some with her emotional control, especially in potions class! It was extremely funny to see Snape fume in half-hidden anger whenever he couldn’t make her react like she had done before to his comments. 

“Yes, I am ready...ow!”

Due to her excitement for the game to begin, she happened to accidentally smack herself on the head with her Nimbus 2000 broom, muttering to herself as she felt for a possible bump. The others snickered at the sight, given how rare it was that Hari injured herself in a moment of clumsiness. Most of her injuries since starting Hogwarts were due to other people or quidditch related.

“Ok, everyone, pay attention for a moment please. I know that weather is far from ideal, but let’s do our best. Hari, please ignore Diggory’s handsome face; I have had enough of hearing the girls swoon over him and really don’t need my seeker doing the same thing,” Oliver pleaded. 

“He’s handsome,” she quipped back questioningly, making the girls laugh. “Calm down, Oliver, he’s not even my type. I prefer guys with golden-blonde hair, worn a bit longer. Not just that, they need to be grown-up and manly guys. Perhaps someone with a nice beard and has strong arms and body.” 

Hearing that, the Weasley twins broke out in a laughing fit, knowing that was no one at Hogwarts who matched her description of her ideal mate. At the moment, they were at school where the oldest students left at the age of seventeen, meaning that the boys attending Hogwarts were still very young and far from being as mature as Hari wanted in a partner. 

“The girl knows what she likes,” Angelina Johnson said, winking at the team’s seeker. “It’s good to see, Hari. We were starting to wonder if you’d ever notice guys since you seem to pay attention to books or quidditch and not much else. It’s not a bad thing since you’re still very young, but this is usually when girls start looking for what we may like in a guy. We’ll have to get together one night and have a good gossip session; make sure to bring Hermione.”

“Sure,” she grinned, then sobered up as they entered the field. She could hear Lee Jordan starting the commentary and looked up for a moment, grateful that she’d charmed her glasses against the rain. 

The game started, and Hari flew up to the right height and began keeping an eye out for the tiny golden ball. As Oliver had warned, it was the worst kind of weather to play a flying sport in. The wind and rain made it difficult to fly properly, and more than one player from both teams happened to fly straight into someone else because they could not see properly. 

“Hari, watch out!” 

Cedric Diggory may be from the other team, but he was still a gentleman and a good sport. He had warned her when he spotted the first lightening bolts that suddenly started to light up the dark sky.

“We need to fly down or we’ll be turned into a crispy piece of meat up here,” she answered, flying around in circles. 

As much as she loved flying, this made her suddenly long for the safe haven of the ground, wanting to stand on her feet in a nice warm shelter. However, her longing was abandoned as the golden snitch flew past them and since neither wanted to lose the match, they flew after it.

“Why has it gotten so cold all of a sudden?” 

The temperature drop caused the rain around her to freeze, and she risked a glance up to spot a swarm of dementors approaching. Cedric, she noticed, had seen them too, and she made a fast decision.

“Head to the stands,” she called, veering off to keep him safe. 

She just had to distract the creatures for a few moments, hoping he’d alert the staff to the problem so they could drive the creatures off before someone got hurt.

Hari could barely hear him shout her name over the wind and thunder, focusing on keeping the two teams safe, and just as she thought she had managed to get out of reach, a dementor swooped in front of her. Her fingers went numb as a wave of memories washed over her, far worse than they had before.

**“Where are the Three, Celebrimbor?” 

Pain, pain everywhere. He could barely gasp for breath anymore.

“Such a pity that the grandson of the great Fëanor will end his life like this, Celebrimbor. You were a very valuable ally in creating the Rings of Power, but I can no longer allow you to live.”

With a soundless movement on his lips, he once again pleaded for the Doomsman to take his soul. All he wanted was to die so he could be free from the pain; he needed it to stop.

“CELEBRIMBOR!!!”**

In that moment, Hari screamed in horror as she never had done before. The pain and fear was overwhelming, and all she could do was scream for help. 

“ATAR!!!! NARVI!!!!”

Her magic went wild, causing an unexpected fire to come to life around her as she fell off the broom. The witch felt as if her whole body was being attacked, causing pain everywhere. The fire surrounding her body did not harm her, but there were several other sources of pain that echoed in her mind: being whipped, long cuts that went deep into the muscles, something causing horrible burn injuries, and her hands being destroyed by a heavy hammer.

“Arresto Momentum!”

The spell stopped her fall, but her spirit fled the frail vessel. As the world went dark, Hari felt something warm and caring surround her and she knew no more.

The feeling of landing softly on a floor jarred her from her dazed state, but she stayed still, not moving due to the shock of everything she’d just gone through. A faint gasp for breath caused a fresh wave of pain. She gave a weak cry of despair, trembling from agony and terror, before she was cradled in warmth and light.

“So this is where he went,” a warm voice commented as a figure walked around the light that was the soul of Celebrimbor.

“It is,” a deeper voice answered. “It took me quite some time to find where he’d been reborn to. His destined one’s spirit remained in Arda and given what that damned Maia put him through, I’m not surprised he fled to another world in hopes of healing.”

“I think Vairë should look at this poor spirit,” the first voice said. “There’s a strong presence of Fate bound around it.”

“I saw it too, Irmo,” the second voice replied. “There’s also something else I see, and I am not pleased with it. Can you send for Nienna and Vairë? We’ll need both of them before we can send the poor child back.”

“Of course, Mandos,” Irmo answered, setting off to summon the two that had been requested.

Mandos knelt beside the battered soul, gently running fingers through the dark hair of the spirit in front of him. His eyes were kind as he took in the current shape the elvish soul was in; it was in the form of a human female child.

“I know you are frightened by what is going on,” he said softly. “Just know that you are safe here. I have been looking for you for a very long time, young one; the family members of your past life and someone incredibly dear to you asked me to find you when they realized you hadn’t been reborn after your death nor were you in my halls. It seems your current life hasn’t been kind to you either. There’s not a lot we can do for you yet, but we will do what we can to make your new destiny go as smoothly as we can. Ilúvatar knows we owe you that much.”

Vairë came in first, recognizing the essence of the soul with Mandos, and she knelt beside him.

“I was just looking at a tapestry that didn’t seem to make much sense at first. Now it does since I realize who that tapestry belongs to,” she commented. “This one has been touched by fate in two worlds. Until she completes her destiny in the other world, she cannot return to the one where her soul was birthed.”

“I was afraid of that,” Mandos replied, nodding when another female entered the room. “Nienna.”

Gentle fingers rested upon the girl’s heart, and Hari slowly began to relax as a new sensation seeped through her. It was warm and wrapped around aches she would swear she had been born with given how familiar they felt to her.

“I have done what I can for the moment,” she told the others. “Once she has completed her destiny, she can return to Arda and find her destined one. Together, they can finish healing the wounds that need to be tended to.”

“I dislike sending her away now that we’ve finally found Celebrimbor after all those years,” Irmo griped slightly. “Is there nothing we can do to aid her so she can return home sooner?”

“There are two things we can do to help her,” Vairë said. “The first is under Mandos’s control; I’m certain you sensed it?”

“I did,” he answered grimly, looking like someone or something had offended him deeply, which was not so easy done when he was the Doomsman of Arda and in charge of the dead souls in his Halls. “I will be removing it immediately, but Nienna will need to help me so that I do not damage the child. Once the task is done, before I send her back, I will speak with my counterpart in the other world she currently lives in. If this atrocity was done once, then it’s possible it was done several times. I’m certain my counterpart can do something to aid the lass in her battle.”

There was a brief silence before Vairë answered.

“Your interference will not upset the ties of fate,” she said in a tone that expressed her relief. “The prophecy is still intact even with our interference; in fact, her memories as Celebrimbor may be the turning point she needs to win as the power she knows not may very well come from her past.”

“You said there was something else we could do to help her,” Nienna asked.

“There is,” the weaver replied. “The tie between Celebrimbor and Narvi has strengthened over the years despite not having crossed paths for so long thanks to that fallen Maia. You can strengthen it further before we return her to the other world, and then Irmo can allow the pair to communicate in his realm.”

“Once Nienna gets that bond strengthened, I can certainly do that for them,” Irmo answered, sounding happy now that he had a way to help. “It’ll give her something to hold onto while she fights in that other world. Isn’t her fated under age at the moment? I know he was reborn not long ago.”

“Yes but by the time she reaches Arda and he finds her, they will both be of age and ready for each other,” Vairë assured him. “Mandos, go ahead and remove the piece attached to her soul.”

Hari whimpered at the burning sensation that seared through her body when a new power touched her. She felt something break away and then the warmth from earlier came over her, healing the pain from the removal of whatever it was that had been taken from her. That was when she felt the odd echo of something tied to her heart grow stronger; instinctively, she had a feeling she knew who it was.

“That feeling is a sign of something beautiful,” Nienna said to Hari gently. “That feeling is the connection you have to your soulmate. In the past, you two were dearest friends and never had the chance to be more to each other before tragedy struck. You have the chance to fight for your happiness, young Harriet Potter. The odds are in your favor now; you are a fighter. You always have been since the days of your soul being Celebrimbor, a son of a much famed house. Use that strength and determination, young one, and do not be afraid of the memories that are returning to you. We shall see you again.”

“Indeed we shall,” Mandos said once everything was done. “I will not lose her this time; I have marked her and will be able to reach her when her time in the other world is done. Harriet Potter, do not be afraid of death. He is a friend and will be an ally to you. Indeed, he is very interested in the one you are fated to defeat.”

“You contacted him already?”

“I do not waste time, Irmo. He is already looking for the pieces like the one removed today,” the Vala of death said. “Time to return, Lady Harriet. We shall see you again when the time is right.”

As he spoke, more memories filled her thoughts, sweeping away her questions and fears.

**Valinor, the land of his birth. His whole family, his parents, six uncles and grandparents, all happy and living, so unlike their later years in Middle Earth. The events of the First Age. His friendship with Narvi...Narvi. Golden-haired Narvi, with that boyish smile of his, the endless fussing over the fact that Celebrimbor rarely bothered to braid his hair properly, his warm and welcoming face...so very dear to him and missed greatly.**

Hari was surrounded by light once more, opening her eyes to reveal an all too familiar ceiling. The light from the windows revealed that it was late due to seeing twilight outside. 

“Don’t tell me that I am in the hospital wing again!” she commented out aloud in annoyance, startling her two friends who had nearly dozed off. Then, as she tried to move, Hari felt an overpowering pain from her right leg. It was coming from her knee. Had something happened to her leg during the fall from the broom? 

“Hari!” 

Ron got up, heading to Madam Pomfrey’s office to alert her to the fact Hari was awake. Part of the promise between the trio and the adult witch was that the two who were not hurt would always let the medi-witch know whenever the patient was alert or in need of something. He returned moments later with the woman beside him.

“One of these days, I may actually succeed in getting that dreadful sport banned,” she fussed, casting diagnostic spells. “Any pain, Miss Potter?”

“My right knee,” she answered, throat dry.

Hermione poured her friend a glass of water, handing it to her. All of them listened to the older witch’s explanation while Hari drank.

“Professor Dumbledore and Professor Flitwick were quick enough with the spell casting to save your life, but you hit the charms so hard that you bounced off. I’m afraid you shattered your right knee and broke the bottom of tops of the bones above and below the knee cap. You also damaged the tendons there. At the moment, you will be taking skelegrow to help repair the broken bones but you will be in a brace for several weeks to allow the muscles and tendons a chance to heal properly. They’re going to be weak for a while.”

Hari made a face as she drank more of her water, not liking the problems she was going to face. One, skelegrow tasted disgusting. Two, it would be incredibly difficult to navigate Hogwarts with a brace on. There were too many stairs for someone of limited mobility, and this would be a serious issue.

“There’s some short cuts you can take to bypass the stairs,” the medi-witch assured her, realizing some of what was worrying her patient. “I’ll take you through them tomorrow after I release you, and I’ll make sure your professors know not to punish you for being late since this injury will slow you down for a while.”

Hari was handed a dose of skelegrow, which she managed to take without being sick, and Madam Pomfrey nodded approvingly before turning her eyes to the two students visiting her patient.

“You two can stay for half an hour only; she’s going to need rest to heal,” she warned.

“Thank you, Madam Pomfrey,” Hermione and Ron chimed in unison.

Once she was gone, Hari leaned back against the pillows and looked to her friends.

“What happened?”

“At first, it was hard to see what was happening because of the rain. Cedric showed up, shouting about the dementors attacking, and then there was a strange fire around you. It looked like it was trying to protect you from those horrible things during the fall and since you were not burned by it, I really think it was protecting you.”

“Fire,” she asked, staring at Hermione.

“Yeah, mate, fire,” Ron answered. “The professors were scrambling to figure out what was causing it, but it sure didn’t stop the fall. Dumbledore and Flitwick were quick to slow you down and try to keep you from hitting the ground. Scared the shite out of us when you bounced off the cushioning charm. Even Malfoy looked sick and frightened.”

“Madam Pomfrey and Professor Snape got you in here on a stretcher. He levitated it while she kept casting spells to keep you from further damaging your spine. Oh Hari, you were so lucky you didn’t break your neck or back.”

“No kidding,” Hari answered, feeling sickened. “I can’t believe those horrible things showed up. I thought they were supposed to stay outside the wards?”

“They weren’t supposed to come inside the wards,” their red-headed friend answered. “Professor Dumbledore was fuming angry when he finally left your side. I heard him tell McGonagall as he left the hospital wing that he was going to get Fudge to pull them out, one way or another.”

“If he doesn’t, he’d be smart to tell the Prophet about this and let them know a child nearly died today,” the bushy haired witch said, looking angry. “This has gotten out of hand.”

“There’s got to be better ways to guard the school,” the dark haired girl agreed. “Why can’t they post policemen or something?”

“Aurors,” Ron supplied. “Thing is, they can’t. According to what I heard Dad tell Bill, the aurors are understaffed and underfunded.”

“That needs to change,” Hari said, shaking her head. “I’d even be willing to lend my name to help a campaign to get the aurors back on track. They’re putting a whole school of children at serious risk. This is twice those things have gone after me. Will the death of a student be needed to change things? Like when the Chamber of Secrets was opened fifty-one years ago, and it took the murder of Mourning Myrtle to make them act?!” 

“Maybe an article to the Prophet would be a good idea,” Hermione mused. “We can put a petition together, then send it and a letter to the Prophet.”

“It would definitely put the kneazle amongst the chickens, that’s for sure,” Ron agreed. “If Fudge won’t listen to Dumbledore and doesn’t care about the students, then it’s time we went for the attention of the rest of the wizarding world instead.”

“Hermione, can you work on getting the petition started? Make sure to talk to one of the neutral Slytherins to help get their names on the petition. A lot of their members are purebloods and those names will stand out,” Hari suggested.

“It’s a good idea, mate. I’ll talk to one of the older Gryffindors that are from a pureblood family that won’t mind talking to a Slytherin. I doubt anyone there would listen to us given our problems with Malfoy,” the boy said.

“Right, we’ll get started on that tonight,” Hermione promised. “Madam Pomfrey is about to chase us out of here. Try to get some rest, Hari, and we’ll see you tomorrow.”

The pair left the infirmary without being ordered to do so, which put the medi-witch in a slightly better mood. Hari took her medicine without complaint and settled in for a painful night. She was too familiar with skelegrow and knew she would have to try to relax as much as she could.

The dark haired witch got comfortable on her bed, staring up at the ceiling as she replayed the events with those strange voices from earlier. Her magic felt different, moving a lot easier than it had before, and it made her wonder what it was that had been removed from her. She frowned, thoughts moving to who it was she would be meeting in her dreams.

It made little sense to her, and Hari knew she would have to wait and see what happened next. She hated not having all of the information she needed but for the moment, she would have to be patient and focus on what she could change.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Author’s End Note – I hope that this was a better read in regards to fluidity. Did the ** setting off the flashbacks help? Anyway, Rogercat and I thank you very much for reading and are anxious to see what you thought of this installment. We’ll see everyone next week! ~ Laran & Rogercat


	6. A Letter and a Discussion

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Author’s Note – We’re quite pleased with how things are turning out. All of our readers have had nice things to say, and I hope we continue to please everyone with the story. We’ve been busy working hard on this story, and we’re happy with how things are going. It’s been a lot of fun.
> 
> Disclaimer – We do not own “Harry Potter,” “the Hobbit,” or “the Silmarillion.” We don’t make money from this story either.

After a restless night with very little sleep and a nice breakfast in the infirmary, Hari was asked to walk around the hospital wing to get used to the brace on her knee. Once she was able to prove she could maneuver without falling over, thanks to the walking stick the medi-witch had provided, Madam Pomfrey showed her the routes to take that would enable her to avoid stairs. Hari made note of them, thanking the woman for her aid once the small tour was over, and she was dismissed to return to her common room.

Hari found her friends sitting at a table in the common room, frowning over something in front of them. She sat down next to Hermione, smiling when Ron jumped, startled by her appearance.

“Bloody hell, Hari, don’t scare me like that!”

“Sorry, I couldn’t help it,” she said, giggling for a few moments. “What are you two staring at so intently?”

“The petition we wrote last night,” Hermione answered. “We had one of the prefects take it this morning, and she went to each table during breakfast to explain the concerns we have about the dementors. We have a lot of signatures already, Hari.”

“Get this, mate. Malfoy even signed it,” Ron informed her, surprising the dark haired witch.

“Seriously,” she asked, shocked by the news.

“Apparently, the presence of the dementors is causing a lot of emotional distress and nightmares for students in every house. I know they’re at the gates and not too close to the school, but there’s so many of them that it’s affecting all of the kids,” the bushy haired witch answered while Ron passed the pot of ink and quill to their friend.

“Wow,” Hari murmured, reaching for a piece of parchment. “Okay, then I guess it’s time to write the letter. I just hope I can do this without stepping on anyone’s toes. I don’t want to make people in our government mad at me.”

As she dropped the quill in ink, Hari suddenly got the feeling of that she had written important letters like this in the past but didn’t remember how or when she would have done so. She shook the feeling off and focused on what she had to write. 

To the Editor of the Daily Prophet

Dear Sir or Madam,

This is the first time I have ever addressed the public; I admit to being nervous about it as I am not one to utilize my fame for anything nor do I seek attention from the media as I enjoy living a quiet life. Truthfully, I am not a fan of the title of “the Girl Who Lived” when I am fairly certain my mother did something to ensure my survival that Halloween night and not something I did. Despite my misgivings regarding the fame the wizarding world has gifted me, I decided to break my silence due to an important topic that puts a considerable amount of people at risk.

You see, I live in the muggle world when I am not attending school and am learning how my fellow witches and wizards handle things differently than those who do not have magic. I was surprised by the use of the dementors to try and catch an escaped convict when policemen or aurors, as I have been told they are called in our world, are usually the best method to catch those who have broken the law. In truth, Scotland Yard (the muggle police agency) has a very high record for catching those who go against the Queen’s law and try to evade capture so I expected to find that our world has an agency of equal skill and reputation.

When I recently asked about this, I was informed by a fellow student that the auror department is both understaffed and underfunded so they must use these dangerous creatures to try and catch Sirius Black instead of utilizing the most powerful tool at the government’s disposal - the human mind and instinct.

I am worried about this school year because there are dementors stationed around Hogwarts in an attempt to capture Black should he try to enter the school. Children are a great source of emotional highs and lows that a dementor uses as food, and these dark creatures are not easily controlled when such a rich and abundant food source is available to them.

The aura they emit can be felt everywhere, and there have been reports of nightmares and periods of depression amongst the students. To make matters worse, a group of dementors attacked the students during a quidditch game because of the joy and high energy that comes with the excitement of watching your house teams compete against each other. All of the children are at serious risk here, and the dementors need to be removed in order to secure their mental and physical well being. Surely there is another alternative to keep us safe while still hunting for this escapee?

In truth, I know our government is doing what they can to catch this criminal and might not have realized just how much danger the students are in due to believing that the school can prevent any attacks or ill-effects from the dementors. The staff is working as hard as they can, but I believe it will take a combined effort between them and our government to keep this school safe.

Attached to this letter is a petition asking for the government to withdraw the dementors and find an alternative to keep the students protected. I know they can do something to ensure the children here are kept healthy and safe while they protect us from the dangers this escaped convict presents. 

Please, help keep the students safe!

Sincerely,

Harriet Potter

Looking it over, Hari felt pleased. It was straight to the point and polite without making her look like she was an attention seeker or trying to make the government look bad. She handed it to Ron and Hermione to read, knowing the other witch would check for grammar and spelling while the wizard would ensure she hadn’t stepped on any toes.

“I think it looks good, Hari,” Ron said after he’d finished reading it. “I’d have Mione duplicate it before sending it to the Prophet. One of the upper level students is going to cast a charm where it makes it so the editor will have to print all of it and not parts of it.”

“Oh that’s good,” the dark haired witch answered, pleased with the idea. “I just hope it does some good. Besides, maybe it is time that I actually use some of my fame as the Girl-Who-Lived and see if I can’t help someone with whatever attention that stupid title draws.”

“Make it work for others,” he agreed. “If we do this now and get it sent off with Hedwig, you might make it for a special edition tonight.”

Hermione duplicated the letter and petition, then took one set to the upperclassman who had offered to help. Once the charm was set, she hurried to the owlrey and sent the beautiful snowy owl off with the small packet. The owl affectionately nipped her human’s friend and set off to deliver everything.

“Even if they don’t know that I was nearly killed, the fact that the dementors left their posts and came to the match should be a wake-up call. Really, no matter what Black once did, I do NOT blame him for escaping if he wanted to get away from those things,” Hari said with a shudder after Hermione had left on her errand. “Having those things around is just inhumane.”

“Me either,” Ron agreed. “Those things are horrible; you’d think they would come up with a better way to handle prisoners.”

Hari tried to not think of what the dementors had forced her to partly remember. She had no doubt she had died in a very horrible way in her past life. The look on her face must have tipped Ron off since he reached out, squeezing her shoulder as he tried to reassure and comfort his friend.

“I know it’s got to be rough, but you’re not alone. Okay?”

The emerald eyed girl smiled faintly at him, glad for his support. Sometimes, she really hoped that Ron would find a way to outshine his many brothers by finding an interest in something that none of them had been doing before him.

Knowing she needed a distraction, the redhead changed the subject to something he’d been thinking about since the summer.

“I forgot to tell you,” he began. “You know how I got to get a new wand this summer? Bill took me to Ollivander’s and while I was trying to find the right one, I got to talking to him about what it is that Mr. Ollivander does. To be honest, I think wand crafting sounds interesting.”

“Oh?” she wondered, thinking that this could be Ron’s big chance to maybe finally stand out from his five brothers. “Maybe we can check out some of the history of crafting wands, just for fun?” 

As a result, they soon ended up in the library, finding all sorts of interesting books about wand lore and the crafting of wands. Knowing Hermione wouldn’t know where they were, they left the library with some of the books they’d found on the subject the wizard was interested in. Ron ended up carrying them because Hari needed her walking stick and was not allowed to put any extra weight on her damaged knee yet. 

“I am actually a wee bit curious about one thing, Ron, and maybe you might know the answer. In muggle stories, at least in the few I managed to read in secret behind the Dursley’s backs, wizards and witches often used a staff instead of a wand like we do now. What caused the change?” 

“I think Bill said something about the use of staves coming from the really old times, like in the Ancient Egypt. Back then, a magical staff was seen as a sign of the gods’ favour. It was pretty useful as a weapon against enemies too since it could be used to knock them out without having to use magic.” 

“Why aren’t they used anymore,” she asked, leading him down a short cut so they wouldn’t have to take the stairs.

“The old ways were forgotten as more muggleborn came into the wizarding world,” he explained. “It was a sign of great power when a staff was chosen for a wizard or witch. I think there’s not been anyone born lately with the power levels where a staff was needed.”

“Is that one of the reasons muggleborn wizards and witches aren’t liked,” she asked, not having heard this before.

“It’s the start of the problem,” Ron answered. “A lot of our culture has been weeded out due to misunderstandings. Years ago, it wasn’t a problem because there were lessons for the incoming students who weren’t raised in our world so they could integrate into our society without too many problems. As years passed, the view on things changed due to those lessons being removed from the curriculum. Because of that, a lot of our holidays and religious traditions were declared to be wrong.”

Hearing that, Hari suddenly felt a strong pity for Salazar Slytherin. Was this part of the reason why he had ended up leaving Hogwarts, which he had helped found? Clearly things must have been different a thousand years ago, when Hogwarts was opening its doors for the first students, with life being so much more dangerous and unsure for both magical and non-magical people. While she did disagree with him about that muggleborn students should not be allowed to set foot in Hogwarts, she still respected him as a great wizard of his time and as a founder of Hogwarts.

“When did this happen,” she asked, curious about how things had started changing.

“It’s been recent,” he answered. “About a century or so when the last of the wizarding culture classes were removed. I never could find out why they’d done it. Truth is, I think people might be more willing to understand each other more if muggle raised students were to go through classes to learn the traditions instead of clamoring for everything to be changed. I also think wizard raised, like myself, need to be taught about the muggle world too to keep the statute safe as well as help foster understanding.”

‘And Ron is seen as not being able in school like his brothers, honestly? I don’t get it,’ she thought silently to herself, then asked her friend about the very thing she was thinking of.

“Well, it’s easy to be overlooked when you’ve got five brothers like mine,” he answered, blushing. “I don’t stand out compared to them or Ginny and never have. I don’t mind learning now because you two have shown me it’s important to study and do well even if my parents don’t pay attention because they’re fawning over Percy or yelling at the twins.”

His words brought up another feeling in Hari as if she almost could hear someone mutter for himself in a barely heard whisper for her ears.

~“It is not MY fault that I am the most similar to Father out of us seven, despite not being the firstborn.”~

She blinked, startled by the memory coming forward though she couldn’t recognize the speaker, and she had a strong feeling that she knew that person awfully well. 

“I pretty much made up my mind that I was going to do my own thing,” Ron continued, unaware of his friend’s problem. 

“That’s a very good idea,” she said softly, drawing her friend’s attention.

“Either you’re in pain or had a memory coming forward,” he said. “What’s going on?”

“It sounds like part of an argument,” Hari answered. “I don’t recognize the one speaking, but the voice is one I could swear I’ve heard befor. This is going to drive me crazy, Ron!”

“We’re not going to let it get to that point,” he told her. “Hermione’s owled her mum about the books, and I’m going to teach both of you how to meditate.”

She was taken aback by that comment, and the witch looked at her best friend as they slowly made their way back to the common room.

“You meditate?”

“Mum’s been teaching me over the years. I had worse control over my temper back then, and my magic was giving me trouble. Meditation helps calm me down, and she said Dad’ll start teaching me occlumency this summer now that I can meditate without a problem. I think meditation might help you stay calm as well as maybe allow you control when these memories try to show up.”

“It’s worth a try, Ron. Thank you.”

“Welcome,” he said, giving the password to the portrait.

“What’s occlumency,” she asked, listening with interest as he told her about the art of protecting one’s mind from invasion. Hari felt that it could be useful to know one day in the future and resolved to study it as soon as she could. 

At the same time this discussion was going on, Dumbledore was reading over the reports that he’d received from Madam Pomfrey as well as Remus regarding how Hari Potter was doing. He was stymied by what had caused the breakdown and magical exhaustion she had experienced; it certainly wasn’t something that was caused by Voldemort. This was not any form of magic he knew of, and he doubted anyone else knew of it either so he was at a loss in regards where to look to research this to help the girl.

It was a puzzle that he would need to solve and hopefully soon. The girl was needed in so many ways that she did not even know about, and having the savior of the wizarding world experiencing break downs was not going to reassure anyone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Authors’ End Note – Rogercat and I hope everyone enjoyed this. I do want to give a warning that the next few chapters will have time skips so no one will be confused when you read next week’s chapter. Please let us know what you thought of the story, and have a great week. We shall see you next week! ~ Laran & Rogercat


	7. End of Year Confrontation

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Author’s Note – Here’s our next chapter for the story! We’ve been keeping busy between writing and brainstorming to make sure everything goes well. I know I’ve been having a blast with this.
> 
> WARNING – TIME SKIP!!!!! 
> 
> Disclaimer – We do not own “Harry Potter,” “The Silmarillion,” or “The Hobbit.” We don’t make money from this story either.

Hari anxiously paced the room she was in, wondering how the hell she had gotten to be in this position. She had tried to keep out of things, not wanting to get dragged into the manhunt for the escaped criminal who she now knew to be her godfather. This information had been given to her by the Minister for Magic, Cornelius Fudge. He had requested an audience with her after her letter and the petition were published in the paper, which she had accepted once she found a teacher she trusted to sit with her. 

She’d been thanked for the polite letter and had been informed that he had not been told of the fact that the students were experiencing issues from the presence of the dementors. He’d been honest with her, to a point, and she could tell he was genuinely upset that the children were having so much trouble. Once they had discussed the issues caused by the creatures and he had told her about Sirius Black, he’d shown interest in how the non-magical world handled their criminals and law enforcement. So she’d given him what information she knew of Scotland Yard and suggested he speak to the muggle authorities regarding how the police worked.

The dementors had been removed and aurors stationed to patrol the grounds and Hogsmeade to ensure the safety of the students. Sirius Black was still on the run so she could not leave the school grounds as she had wanted to do as she was eager to see the village near the school. However, Hari had given her promise to Professor Lupin and Minister Fudge that she would do her best to stay out of the way of the escaped convict, and the young witch had done her best to keep that promise. 

Despite her best efforts to stay out of trouble, she had somehow managed to fall into the middle of what looked to be a conspiracy of some sort. All the green eyed teenager had done was follow her friend when he had been dragged through an unknown passage under the whomping willow by a large black dog. Hari, Hermione, and Ron were now caught in the Shrieking Shack, listening to Sirius Black argue with Remus Lupin, and the black haired witch was pacing near the bed where Ron lay, trying to not to stumble. Her leg was still somewhat stiff after the healing, and she was worried that she would have a minor limp if it didn’t heal properly. Madam Pomfrey had done her best with the injury and had brought in a specialist from St. Mungo’s, who had said that time and low level exercise was needed for it to continue healing, and she was grateful the woman had tried. In the back of her mind, her worry about the limp was justified as she knew her aunt and uncle would not pay any heed to the healer’s warnings and keep her busy with heavy cleaning and chores.

“We need to get out of here before something happens between them. If they start a duel in here, we’ll end up being stuck in the line of fire,” Hermione whispered, sounding worried. 

Hari nodded in agreement. She was trying to think of a way to get them out of there before things became worse, but both her knee and Ron’s injured leg made it difficult to escape. 

“They seem to be arguing over Scabbers for some reason,” she murmured back, wishing that there was at least one adult here that she could trust. 

Why Black seemed to be after Ron’s old pet rat, none of the trio could guess but they knew that they needed to get out of there before the man decided to turn his attention onto them. 

“Ron, can you move?” 

He could only shake his head faintly in answer to Hermione’s question, trying not to move too much because of the pain in his broken leg. Not for the first time, both girls resolved to themselves to make sure to start studying healing spells since one or more of their trio always seemed to get hurt once a year.

The voices got louder, and all three teenagers frowned and stared at the adults. None of them understood why a teacher was arguing instead of disarming and capturing the escaped convict. Truth was, it made them nervous and wanting a responsible adult to appear to handle this situation.

Finally, Hermione’s frustration, fear, and confusion pushed her into addressing the two males.

“There is nothing special about that rat,” she objected. “The issue here is that he is an escaped prisoner who should be disarmed and secured to be returned to prison. Why aren’t you doing something about this, professor?”

“I would like to know that myself,” an unexpected voice stated, making everyone turn to see Minister Cornelius Fudge standing in the doorway with his wand out, giving the two teenager girls a chance to do so as well. “I came to the school to check in with the lead auror and find a student being injured. Miss Potter, Miss Granger, you did the right thing in trying to help your friend fight off what you thought was a dog.”

Hari felt relieved in more than one way. Because he’d been the first adult to actually listen to her, the last thing she had wanted was to disappoint the man. She didn’t fully trust him as no grown up had earned it yet, but he’d been earnest in ensuring she and the other children were kept safe.

“This isn’t a common rat,” Sirius Black objected with his hands up in a gesture of surrender, knowing better than trying anything with several wands pointing at him. “This is Peter Pettigrew; he blew up the gas line and cut his finger off before shifting into his animagus form to escape into the sewers. I never had a chance to explain all this; I was in shock from losing the one I called brother and being betrayed by another I had called brother as well so I couldn’t object to being arrested.”

“If this is true, why did you not speak out about this during the trial,” the minister asked.

“I was never given one,” the escapee answered in a bitter sounding voice. “I was stunned by the aurors and woke up in a cell in Azkaban. Bagnold and Crouch believed I was guilty and bypassed the legal process.”

“Even in wartime situations, such an action is illegal,” Ron said, as he had heard his father explain about how a trial would be given. “I can’t believe such a thing would happen!”

“Nor can I,” Fudge said. “However, if I can be shown proof tonight, I will look into the situation since your evidence might indicate that Mr. Black is speaking the truth. If this rat is an animagus, the proof would be revealed by reversing the transformation.”

The wizard cast the spell, looking furious when a balding man stood where Scabbers had been just seconds ago. The minister cast several spells to bind Pettigrew, then turned to Ron.

“Would you and the other Gryffindors submit to a medical exam,” he asked in a rough tone of voice. “This foul excuse of a wizard has been in the school and with your family for years; Merlin only knows what he could have done during that time.”

The trio went pale, looking sick by the idea, and the adults were obviously thinking the same thing since they had expressions of anger on their faces. Hari nodded, voice soft.

“We’ll do it whenever Madam Pomfrey wants to see us,” she said. “What happens now?”

“If Mr. Black will place himself into my custody, I will ensure the Wizengamot meets tonight for an emergency session and hold the trial. From there, he will be given Veritaserum to ensure the rest of his story is true.”

“One thing, minister,” Sirius said, voice raspy from disuse as he stepped backwards towards a wall as a sign of not planning to escape. “When I’m proven innocent, I would like to have custody of my goddaughter. She should never have been placed with her aunt, even if Petunia is the older sister of her late mother Lily.”

“Dumbledore claims there are blood wards that keep her safe,” Fudge replied.

“You and I both know that there must be love for those wards to work,” the gray eyed male told him, slightly lowering his hands so he would not tire his shoulders so much. “Petunia and her walrus of a husband have no love for anything that does not fit their definition of normal, or rather, being Muggles. In Petunia’s eyes, magic took Lily away from a normal life, a life where there would be nothing of what is normal for magical people.”

The minister turned, eying the girl in question.

“I need to know what your thoughts are on this, Miss Potter. You have grown up in your maternal aunt’s house all this time; would you be sad to leave it?”

“I’ll be honest, Minister Fudge. My so-called family has no love for me at all, and it doesn’t matter that I’m the daughter of her younger sister. I didn’t have a real bedroom until I got my Hogwarts letter, sleeping in a small cupboard under the stairs, and I’m treated no better than a house elf. I was even lied to about how they died, and I only found out the truth when Hagrid revealed it during the shopping trip for first year.”

“We send her care packages of food during the summer,” Hermione said. “She’s always underweight when she comes back to school.”

“If you prove to be speaking the entire truth, Black, then I shall grant custody. I would recommend getting her parents’ wills unsealed since the Wizengamot had them sealed shortly after their deaths for some unknown reason,” the minister told the man. “Miss Potter, I shall have someone discreetly investigate this. No child should be put through what you were, and I shall see to it they are taught to treat a child with love and compassion.”

“Good luck with that; the school nurses in my muggle school before Hogwarts also wondered why I seemed to be underweight, smaller than my peers, and wearing my cousin’s hand-me-down clothes despite him being a boy. My aunt claimed to the school nurses that it was caused by an eating disorder or congenital inability to eat nutritious food in a normal way, and the clothing was my choice because I was a tomboy who didn’t like girly clothing or nice things. My weight was often commented on when compared with my cousin. He was being fed so much food that he actually was overweight in preschool.” 

Black raised an eyebrow at hearing that, muttering for himself about Petunia being driven by envy over that Lily was the prettier sister, blessed with magic, and having a far more charming personality. Fudge used some magic to call the aurors to him, and they took both Pettigrew and Black to the ministry to be tried. 

Over the next few days, the newspapers were filled with the news about what had happened at Black’s arrest. Hari was pleased to find the truth coming out as she wanted her godfather to be free from those twelve years of injustice that he had suffered from. Fudge had kept his word, overriding Dumbledore by giving custody of Harriet Potter to Sirius, and an investigation was being held into the actions of her family.

As she watched the full moon from the window at her bed in the girls’ s dormitory, something strange filled her as she almost could see a door marked in white upon a mountain wall in her mind. Words drifted through her thoughts, finding them somewhat familiar but strange at the same time. 

“Free us from the past  
The deeds made of others  
Remove the blood of old  
On those hands of mine  
I plead no part of what  
Once was made of those  
Now long gone  
Yet I know my own guilt  
A fool’s mistake made  
In blind faith   
To false words and lies  
What was meant to help  
Instead turned to ruin  
An old Oath still haunting  
Those who lives…. “

Hari sighed, shaking her head to clear her thoughts and going to bed. She hoped that things would calm down for a while so she could rest peacefully as well as finish this year’s schooling without too much drama. She snuggled into her blankets, drifting off to sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Author’s End Note - Yup, we actually have a competent Fudge! Not something you see in fiction much so we decided to change it up for the heck of it. He’s actually been kind of fun to write! I hope you enjoyed this installment. Please let us know what you thought of it, and thank you for reading. See you next time, Rogercat & Laran


	8. Contemplations and Discussions

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Authors’ Note – Rogercat and I are very pleased with the acceptance of a competent Fudge; he’s been rather fun to work with. The acceptance has meant a great deal to us, inspiring us to work harder on the next chapters. We hope you all enjoy this next one!
> 
> WARNING – MASSIVE TIME SKIP TO FIFTH YEAR!!!! 
> 
> Disclaimer – We do not own “Harry Potter,” “The Silmarillion,” or “The Hobbit.” We do not make money from this story.

Hari looked out from the window in her room in the house she and Sirius lived in. There was only a week left until her fifth year at Hogwarts began and ever since her godfather had been found innocent in the trial, things in her life had greatly changed for the better. While Sirius had inherited his family home at the death of his mother, he did not find it to be a healthy place for a young teenager to live in, especially as it also brought up unpleasant memories of his childhood too. So he and Hari had moved into a new home just outside of London. Not wanting to take risks with her safety, her godfather had hired goblin warders from Gringotts and the house was more secure than most of the ancient manors that the older families lived in.

She, Ron, and Hermione had talked about the reincarnation issue and finally brought Sirius in on what was going on. They explained about her dreams and flashbacks, even sharing what had happened on the quidditch field when the dementors had attacked. Her godfather had sworn on his magic to tell no one unless he was given permission to do so, and he’d raided the libraries from several of the houses owned by his family in hopes of finding something that would help explain everything. He hadn’t found anything yet, but the man was determined to get his goddaughter the information she needed.

“Hmm, so from what we have gotten together, Hari, it seems like you might have been a jewel-smith named Celebrimbor in a past life and you were killed by someone named Annatar in that life as well. All this results in you having some serious issues with blonde guys?”

Well, not all blond males set her on her guard but Hari didn’t mention that. There was one thing that had started shortly after third year that she had kept to herself. She had started dream-sharing with a dwarf, and she suspected that he was from the world where she had lived in her past life. 

“I think I was Celebrimbor, but I don’t have anything to really confirm it. Everything is so scattered that it could be I knew this person and was harmed by this Annatar as well. It’s difficult to really say yes or no without having more memories to work with,” she shared, tugging on one of the small braids she habitually wore with the main braid.

“It will come, pup, just give it time. Good news about your issues with blond guys is it that should keep you away from the Malfoys at least. Since Narcissa Malfoy is my cousin, I wouldn’t feel too comfortable with you possibly marrying into that family,” Sirius said, moving a hand through his hair. 

Since he’d been proven innocent and regaining his health, he was now looking a lot more like his younger self now that he’d shaved off the beard as well as keeping his hair at shoulder-length. While his handsome looks had faded a bit because of being in Azkaban for twelve long years, he had come a long way from the half-mad, starved person he had looked like at their first meeting. The medical aid had been facilitated by Minister Fudge, who had genuinely wanted to help, and the man had kept both the press and the headmaster from hounding them, especially once the trial with the Dursleys had taken place.

Hari sighed softly, shaking her head as she pulled her attention back onto the conversation they were having.

“I’m not looking to marry anytime soon,” she told him. “More to the point, I wouldn’t marry anyone I have a blood tie with, no matter how distant. That’s beyond creepy and disgusting, Sirius.”

Her godfather smiled, pleased to hear that answer. He had spent some time researching the effects caused by the pureblood families intermarrying so often and he was of the strong belief that if he ever married, it would need to be a muggleborn witch as the Black family was in desperate need of new blood that would lessen the genetic damage caused by generations of inbreeding. Hermione, hearing of his quest to understand the issues with interbreeding, had brought him books about genetics and then introduced him to her parents, who had explained the information in a way the man could understand.

“I’m glad to hear it, pup,” he said to her. “You should think about bed soon. Your friends will be here tomorrow, and you’ll want to be rested up to hear about their summers.”

“Ron’s been excited about his summer work at Ollivander’s shop so I know he’ll be chatting about that for a long while,” she answered, rising to her feet to give her godfather a kiss on the cheek. “Sleep well, Sirius.”

After he’d wished her good night, Hari headed to her bedroom, thoughts on the dream to come. She’d been wary of the one in her dreams at first, which had been the response he’d had as well, but she’d come to form a strong friendship with him as time went on. When he’d realized she was undergoing stress from the transition from an abusive home to a loving one, he’d dropped the wariness and offered to help.

From that moment forward, Hari had someone who would listen without judgment, offer advice without pulling punches, and he also helped with the doubts and inner pain she had carried for so long. Her Golden Lion, as she’d nicknamed him, had been her source of comfort and peace. Everything he offered had been so desperately needed during her fourth year of school when she’d gotten roped into competing in a tournament she had not entered. No one knew how it had happened, and Hari had openly protested against having to be part of the Tri-Wizard Tournament, pointing out that she was underage and would not be legally allowed to compete. She’d even gone so far as to swear a magical oath declaring she had not entered herself in front of the student body, faculty, and guests, but not even Fudge and Sirius had been able to help her get out of it.

Her lion had not been pleased and gave her exercises to learn in hopes of being able to defend herself. Even now, after the tournament was over, he still helped her train for a part of the night and she took what she had learned to apply it in the waking day to help strengthen her body. He had been her rock during all of this, soothing her terrors throughout each part of the competition.

~And people wonder why I asked Madame Olympe Maxime if there was a chance to change schools to get away from this madness,~ Hari thought, recalling the Headmistress of the French magical school known as Beauxbatons Academy of Magic. The woman had been interested in taking her and Hermione, but Dumbledore had put a stop to it as soon as he had heard of the girls’ interest in transferring.

The young witch pulled herself out of her thoughts, readying herself for the night’s rest. She was tired of debating with herself about Albus Dumbledore, especially once she’d finally heard her parents’ will. It had been revealed, clearly and without any doubt, that Hari was to NEVER be placed in the care of Petunia Dursley because Lily and James had been aware of her dislike for all things magical. If Sirius, for some reason, was unable to take her in after their deaths, Hari was to be placed with either Remus Lupin or another family in a small list of foster families they had left in the will. She’d been surprised to see the Longbottom family mentioned in that list. 

Between the contents of the will as well as the outcome of the trial of the Dursleys, Dumbledore had a lot to answer for and Sirius and Fudge were doing their best to get the answers Hari deserved. They were determined to get more than “it’s for the greater good” out of the man. They all agreed it was a very weak answer to all the dubious things that had happened after that Hari had become an orphan. Her lion had agreed on that point too, commenting that his uncle would never place an orphan with someone who had not actively agreed to take in a child if the wishes of the parents were not known. Hari had been calmed when hearing that, which he had wanted and was pleased to see.

With all of this going on, she and her lion had finally exchanged names the night of Voldemort’s return. He’d held her as she sobbed, listening to her tale, and he’d advised her on what to do. Occasionally, he’d have advice from his uncle or mother and she’d treasured each one, following it carefully. It was his knowledge of politics that had helped her with Fudge when he had asked for an explanation as to what had happened when she’d touched the cup. His advice had been useful while she sat in the minister’s office, recounting her tale in front of Fudge, her godfather, and the head of the aurors. 

Hari climbed into bed, drifting off to sleep to find her lion waiting for her at the nice little fire that tended to be burning at their meeting spot. He lifted his head as she appeared, smiling warmly in welcome.

“It’s good to see you, Emerald-Girl,” he greeted, hugging her after she sat down.

“It’s good to see you too,” Hari told him. “How’s your day been?”

“The usual - chores, lessons, training,” he answered. “I spent part of it ducking pranks from Kili. The ideas you gave me to use on him were great; they worked really well. Kili was caught twice in the water one.”

She laughed at that, eyes shimmering in the light like the gemstones he often felt that they looked like.

“I’m glad to hear it; Sirius is devious when it comes to planning pranks,” the witch told him, feeling a bit more relaxed.

“So, how was your day?”

“Long,” Hari answered, sobering. “I spent most of this morning in the Department of Mysteries talking to several Unspeakables about the ritual Barty Crouch Junior used to give Voldemort a new body. They’re still confused about how he survived; Minister Fudge said they’d been working on that since they heard about the times I’d faced him since starting at Hogwarts.”

At Fili’s recommendation, she’d told Fudge about all of the encounters she’d had with Voldemort before telling him the story of what had happened at the graveyard. Between the stories, her magical oath, and the memories she’d donated for the aurors to study, the man had been quick to call in the Unspeakables.

While it was somewhat understandable that Voldemort wanted to kill her because he had failed during his first attempt so many years ago, it did not explain why he had targeted her on that tragic October night. At least, it hadn’t until today when one of the Unspeakables had entered the conference room where they were and had shared the shocking news that they had found a prophecy orb. She had gone with them to retrieve it, listening to it with a sinking stomach.

In a quiet voice, she explained all of this to Fili, who listened with a look of concern on his face.

“Are all prophecies so vague,” he asked after she’d recited it for him.

“I don’t know,” Hari said. “I took ancient runes over divination because I don’t have the gift needed for it and don’t believe the future is set in stone. The Unspeakables are working on trying to determine if it’s genuine and what needs to be done if it is.”

“It is genuine,” a new voice spoke, causing both of them to turn to spot the new speaker.

Standing a few feet away from them was a man clad in dark robes and a beautiful woman. Both were watching them with expressions of loving concern, and Hari had a feeling she’d been in their presence before.

“You are…?” 

The words were caught on her tongue, but the woman seemed to realize what she was asking.

“I am Vairë, the weaver of fate, and this is Mandos, guardian of the halls of the dead,” she said. “We have information you must know before you start school this year, daughter of Eru.”

Fili’s eyes widened, and he bowed to the two figures next to them.

“Be at peace, son of Mahal,” Mandos told him, voice gentle but full of power. “I mean no harm to either of you and have come to lend my aid. Daughter of Eru, the reason your enemy in the world your soul was reborn into has survived all this time is because he split his soul and stored them into objects to anchor him to the world of the living.”

“The diary,” Hari gasped, putting it together as she recalled the image of Tom Riddle becoming stronger as Ginny Weasley grew weaker.

“Indeed,” he answered. “I brought your soul to me when the foul beings attacked you, and I discovered one of those anchors in your own soul. I removed it and spoke to the representative of death in your world. Because this is magic beyond most wizards, Death and Fate agreed to assist you in regards to the prophecy given in your name. He sought out the anchors this wizard created and took the pieces of the soul beyond the veil with him. All that remains is the body that harbors what is left of his soul. He cannot create another anchor; his soul is too mangled, and it would kill him.”

“Your headmaster is aware of these anchors but does not know others have intervened to destroy them,” Vairë said. “He knows you once bore one of them and has been struggling to find a way to be rid of it.”

Fili’s eyes widened, remembering what Hari had told him about Dumbledore’s actions and realizing what the man had been doing.

“That’s why he didn’t want the Dursleys punished for what they did to you and why he wants you back with them,” he said in growing horror. “He wants you broken, desperate for freedom so you’ll willingly die to kill that anchor inside your soul.” 

For some reason, the words seemed to trigger something inside Hari. She was terrified of being used again for something that would not just take her life but also steal any chance of happiness she may find. It was something she suspected had happened in her past life, and the witch did not want it to happen again.

“It’s gone, right? I don’t have to die?” she asked, her eyes pleading for an answer that would not make her even more afraid. 

“It is gone,” Mandos assured her. “All that is left is to deal with the final portion of Riddle’s soul. Once that is done, you will be free of destiny in this world and will find something from your past life that will be important to you. It is something which never got the chance to fully flower and will finally transform into what you needed back then.”

As he spoke, Mandos used some spiritual magic to show a ghostly flower bud just outside Hari’s heart. It was still very small but when Hari took hold of it, she felt a gentle heat from it. 

“I know this confuses you, daughter of Eru, but you will understand when the time is right. The ability to defeat the foe of your current world lies within who you were in the past. Once your story here is finished, you will find yourself on another journey and this time, we will ensure that happiness will be granted to you.”

Mandos looked to Fili, who was rather confused and worried. He was glad to see the bond between them was growing, and he knew that the dwarf would be necessary in the second part of Hari’s journey.

“Train hard, warrior of Durin, for your strength will be needed. The two of you will be the ones to heal a rift that should never have been formed. Rely on each other, now and in the future, and your bond will see you through the shadows.”

The two Valar disappeared, leaving the pair to stare at each other in confusion.

“What in the world was that?”

Fili had heard tales about how the Valar would sometimes show themselves to those who were destined to do things to help Arda, but he’d never thought he’d be one of the ones to be spoken to. In truth, he probably should have given the dream link he had with Hari as well as the dreams he’d been having whenever he hadn’t met up with her in Irmo’s realm.

“That was the Valar,” he said. “They worked along with Eru, the All-father, to create the world of Arda, where I live. Each one has a particular realm or talent they control. Mahal, who is the creator of my people, is known as the Smith. His wife, Yavanna, watches over the things that grow.”

“Sort of like the gods here,” she answered, getting a sense of familiarity from his explanation and knowing she probably knew all this at one point. In fact, the mention of Mahal seemed to cause an extra strong reaction. There were times she felt the sensation of holding a hammer, and she suspected her past self may have called upon Mahal for strength and aid. 

“Hey Fili, do your people believe in reincarnation,” she asked curiously.

“Well, I know my ancestor, Durin the Deathless, is said to be reborn six times after his first death. So yes, we do. Why do you ask?”

“For as long as I can remember, I’ve had dreams of people and places I could swear I recognized but logically know I’ve never seen before,” she answered softly, watching him as she did so. “Given what that man said, I think my soul originated from your world.”

“Do you know who you might have been?”

“I have my suspicions, but I’m not certain,” she admitted. “Sometimes names pop up in my dreams or random memories, but I don’t have anything to really confirm it. I do know that I seemed to disown my father for something really bad he had done, disowning my family as well, and that I was killed by someone named Annatar.”

Fili, who had reached for a beer tankard at his feet, suddenly dropped the mug when he heard the name. 

“I know that name,” he said, looking at her. “You know I told you I’m of the line of Durin? Well, the last elf to ever bear the title of ‘dwarf friend’ was brutally murdered by him; the line of Durin did what they could to avenge their friend. In fact, he’s buried with the one he called his best friend in Khazad-dûm with full honors after they saved his body from being dishonored more than what it already had been. The two are buried together according to our history books.”

“I once saw a creature of my world take his form for a couple of moments during a lesson. I freaked out in a way that I have never done before,” Hari whispered, shuddering at the memories. 

“I would have too knowing who Annatar turned out to be,” he said to his friend. “Sauron. The Enemy of this world, a Fallen Maia who betrayed Mahal by going over to the Dark Lord Morgoth a very long time ago. Morgoth is no longer in this world, but Sauron is or so some suspect. Some people think he died during the battle when Isildur cut the One Ring from his hand.”

A shudder made its way down her spine, and Fili felt it and wrapped an arm around her to try to comfort her.

“He sounds far worse than Voldemort, and I never thought I’d say that.”

“From what you told me of the snake and his actions, Sauron was a lot worse,” he answered. “The death toll was catastrophic. He was named enemy of the line of Durin when Celebrimbor was murdered, and our clan has done everything it could to ensure his demise.” 

“Celebrimbor was the dwarf friend you mentioned earlier,” she asked.

“He was,” Fili answered. “He and Narvi were the ones who created the Doors of Durin in Khazad-dûm. We have drawings of it, but no one of my line has seen them since we lost the mountain.” 

Narvi. That was a name that sounded familiar, but she wasn’t sure why. It was frustrating recognizing names but not knowing why it was.

“Do you know what he looked like,” she asked. “Maybe that’s one of the faces I see when I sleep.”

“There’s drawings of him and Celebrimbor,” the dwarf replied. “Some of the scribes were able to save a few of the books during the losses of both Erebor and Khazad-dûm, and those have been preserved over the years to ensure our history isn’t lost.”

“True book lovers there,” she said, giving a soft laugh. “My friend, Hermione, would definitely approve. She’d be grabbing what she could to save of the books before running too.”

“Not you?”

“If I had a bag of holding and time, yes but I would probably grab items that were necessary and maybe a few sentimental items, especially things that we females can need at times,” she said. “I tend to be the more practical of the three of us.”

“Same,” he replied, chuckling. “I’ve no doubt Kili would be grabbing the more sentimental things after making sure he had his bow and quiver.”

The two laughed for a moment before Fili set himself back on task. They’d discovered shortly after starting sharing dreams that they could manipulate their surroundings. It had taken practice, but both could change the scenery and create items at will. He focused for a moment, pulling an image from his memory, and the figure of a dwarf appeared in front of them with an elf beside him.

“Is that Narvi?”

Something in that dwarf’s appearance made Hari’s heart ache in a strange way. That dark skin and the golden hair felt so familiar, as did the elf at his side. It was like she was staring at an old friend; the laughing eyes were almost as deep a blue as Fili’s, and they were filled with affection and mischief like her friend’s were.

“I know him,” she whispered. She wanted to touch that face, to plead with him not to leave her despite not knowing why. 

“Want to know what’s strange? The first time I saw a picture of Celebrimbor, I could swear I knew him too,” Fili shared. “I knew he sweetened his tea with dwarvish whiskey and a dab of honey. He preferred sweets over sour things, and he would steal every biscuit he could get his hands on.”

“Really?”

Strangely enough, Hari recalled an odd argument about stealing biscuits and not eating enough while working. She’d once thought it was because Hermione and Ron were always trying to get her weight to a normal range but apparently, this argument was an older one. Had she been having similar weight issues in her old life?

“Reminds me, how is your godfather?” Fili asked, making Hari tell him about how Sirius was doing since being proven innocent and his secret task to find a possible wife. He laughed when she told him about the list of qualities he had devised and her suspicions he was being too picky so he’d have to stay single.

“Then again, many of the pureblood families are related to the Black family in some way so his only chance of bringing in new blood into the family tree would be by a marriage to a foreign witch or a muggleborn,” she said. “He doesn’t have a problem with marrying a muggleborn, provided he finds one who is willing to work within the traditions of our world and teach their children to embrace both worlds.”

In that way, Sirius was a lot like his disliked forefathers in regards to his wish to keep the traditions of the magical world intact. He was aware there was a huge risk of revealing the magical world to the muggle world. People would start seeing magic as the solution to every single problem and that would mean a lot of danger for magical beings and creatures. 

Her greatest fear was the exact opposite of his fears of being exploited by the non-magical world; she knew that most of the muggle religions were intolerant of magic as well as the gods worshiped by the people in the magical world. If their world was exposed, there would be a mass panic by the religious people and every witch, wizard, and magical creature would be hunted down and destroyed. From that point, she could not help but agree with Salazar Slytherin in his fears of witch-hunters. 

Hari had spoken to Fili about these fears, saying that she felt that muggleborn witches and wizards should be identified early and brought into the magical world as soon as possible so they could learn about the culture of the world they were to live in. If the parents were abusive or could not tolerate their child’s magic, like what had happened with the Dursleys, then the child should be removed and adopted into a pureblood family. She felt that if the children were taught early, then they would assimilate into the new culture easier and prevent the bigotry between purebloods and the muggleborn. If it didn’t, there was a high risk of that the magical world would destroy itself eventually.

Her dwarf friend had encouraged her to speak to her friends and Sirius about this, and all three had agreed with her that something needed to be done to keep the magical world balanced and prevent exposure. Sirius had gone to the Wizengamot and presented his ideas. Oddly enough, all of the pureblood families agreed with him but the measures were slowed down thanks to Dumbledore and his cronies.

“How is your own family, Fili? Any sign of a possible princess for you,” she teased, ignoring the twisting feeling that surrounded her heart.

“Amad would kill anyone who dared to bring up the idea of an arranged marriage,” the prince said with a smile. “Uncle would be right beside her too; they both want Kili and I to find our Ones and marry for love. It’s not like we have to worry about it right now since we’re not of age yet. 

“There’s been some whispers about uncle needing to marry, but he’s refused since he has heirs in my brother and me. We have time since there’s not a lot of rules regarding marriage outside of the courtship rituals and steps to taking a husband or wife. The only thing that is really frowned upon is an age difference of more than forty years between a husband and wife; that’s because of the higher risk to be left as a widow or widower in the best years of their lives.” 

Hari nodded, seeing the point of the risks with a big age difference. Losing your life partner before you reached old age would be horrible. 

“That’s understandable, but what if the spouse is of a different race? The age difference may not be a problem due to the way some races mature faster,” she asked, shifting position to get comfortable. 

“That doesn’t happen too often,” Fili answered. “There’s a bit of wiggle room for that due to the maturity issues.”

She felt a faint smile on her lips. Around them, the dream shape started to fade, a sign of that Hari needed to return to her world. She bade her friend farewell, waking with a sigh before getting ready for the day.

When the witch went downstairs, she found Sirius sitting at the breakfast table, toast held between his teeth as he tried to read the newspaper. He looked up when Hari entered the kitchen. As usual after the dream meetings with Fili, she was a little more tired than she usually was. 

“Morning, princess. There is hot tea for you in the teapot,” Sirius greeted, noticing her tiredness with concern. 

“Thanks, Sirius.” 

Hari had just added a little honey into the tea, pausing when she suddenly spotted the small bottle of muggle whiskey that Sirius had used for adding some flavor in the gravy for the dinner yesterday. Seeing that her godfather was focused on the newspaper again, she quickly added a small amount of whiskey to the tea while pretending to open the honey jar again. 

“Well, it’s nearly time to leave for your fifth year at Hogwarts, Hari. With some luck, you won’t make a fool out of yourself in front of someone you may fancy. Your dad was a bit of a love-struck idiot when it came to your mom, and it was worse when we started our fifth year in school. Some things happened that I am not too proud of now that I look back,” Sirius said, almost looking like he wished to go back in time and slap some common sense into his younger self. 

Spending twelve years in Azkaban had stunted his emotional development, but Sirius tried his best to be a reasonable adult for his goddaughter. Because she was a teenager and rather mature in her own way helped to create a close bond between them. She helped him adjust to life outside prison, and he helped with the nightmares that came from her past life as well as the confrontations she’d had with Voldemort.

Oddly enough, she had also managed to form a bit of a friendship with the house-elf her godfather had deemed to be insane. He always called her ‘great lady’ and was happy to help her with whatever she needed at that moment. Kreacher served her, and Dobby happily worked for Sirius; the house ran smoothly and was peaceful for them for the most part. The only chaos was when Sirius and Hari engaged in prank wars, but Remus usually ended them by pulling something that the pair couldn’t counter whenever he visited during the chaotic times caused by the two.

“Excited to have your friends come over?”

“I am, yeah,” she answered as she sipped at her tea. “I know I’ve mentioned it before that Ron’s been working a summer apprenticeship with Mr. Ollivander; he’s been enjoying it a great deal. Hermione and I both agree that he’s never written so much in letters before this summer and now, he has loads to say about what he’s done and learned.”

“He’s found a career that he enjoys and will have job security; every witch or wizard needs a wand at least once in their lives,” he told her. “I hope his parents are happy with his decision.”

“Mr. Weasley is ecstatic,” Hari said. “Mrs. Weasley has her heart set on all of her children working for the ministry; so far, only Percy seems to be following her wishes. Truthfully, I can’t see Ron working at a desk or as an auror. The only child she has that doesn’t mind bureaucracy is Percy.”

“From the ones I’ve met, I agree,” he replied. “Each of her children have their own special talents and interests; she’d do well to remember that. While I can understand her wish for them to have good jobs, they are not copies of each other or their father.” 

Sirius had been rather impressed with George and Fred and after hearing about their business goals, had agreed to back the twins in opening their shop after graduation on the condition they got good grades on their OWLS and NEWTS as well as ensuring their pranks and products were designed for fun and not humiliation. The twins had promised and scored remarkably well on their OWLS, much to their parents’ pride.

Hermione had stumbled into spell crafting after reading one of the books Sirius had placed in the library, and she’d been in contact with a master spellcrafter after Hari’s godfather had introduced them when he’d found out about her fascination with the subject. The two had been exchanging letters after they’d been introduced and if Hermione did well on her OWLS, she would be working on a summer apprenticeship as well.

The only magical subject Hari found very interesting was runes, which she added to jewelry. It was a surprise to Sirius to find that his goddaughter had a knack for working with jewelry. Oddly enough, she hadn’t required a lot of instruction and he’d converted a room into a workshop for her. 

In the back of her mind, she kept comparing it to the workshop she saw in her dreams and knew they weren’t the same. However, it was more than enough to create gifts for those she cared about. It calmed her to be able to work with jewelry in a manner similar to her past life. She never tried to make rings because of what she suspected had lead to her death but creating other kinds of jewelry kept her quite busy. In fact, she had just finished a nice necklace which would look cool on Sirius. Hari would be giving it to him after she engraved runes for protection into it.

“You look tired; did you not sleep well or is it that awful monthly visitor making an appearance,” Sirius wondered, getting ready to plate some breakfast for them.

“Not due for that for another week,” she admitted. “Reminds me, thank you for recommending that healer. The potions she suggested helped a lot last month.”

“That’s part of what being a godfather is,” he said, passing her a plate of eggs, mushrooms, and bacon. “Do the three of you have any plans for the time they’re here?”

“I have an appointment with Croaker tomorrow,” she said, reminding him about the visit with the Unspeakable. 

“Oh yes,” he answered, nodding. 

He had worked with Hermione and Ron in convincing Hari to finally open up to someone about the reincarnation issue the witch was having. She’d only been convinced in doing this when Croaker had proven himself to be trustworthy when he’d listened and believed her during the interview Fudge had set up so she could speak with him about the Voldemort issue.

“You really think he can help?”

“Unspeakables make a study in odd obscure knowledge,” he answered. “If anyone can figure this out, it’d be him. He’s trustworthy and reliable. Even if he can’t help, he might have suggestions about how to handle the memories returning. You’re spacing out at the worst times, and I’m worried about you.”

The spacing out was happening more and more, and she’d had to pull out of playing quidditch because of it happening a lot during practice and games. Sirius had used his authority to ensure that Gryffindor House didn’t turn on her because of having to quit the team; he’d willingly taken the heat for it, and she loved him more for it.

“I think seeing Voldemort return in front of my very eyes may have triggered something else from my past life. Getting killed by torture is NOT a pleasant way of dying, after all.” 

Sirius was far from the only adult who was worried by the way Hari seemed so calm about the fact how she had died violently in her past life. Granted, it belonged in the past but it was still a traumatic thing. He was concerned that she might be repressing a lot of things to get through this, which was unhealthy. If he had a chance to talk to Croaker alone, he would bring up his concerns and ask for advice.

The pair enjoyed their breakfast, passing the time with idle chat as they waited for Hari’s friends to arrive. Sirius hoped that their presence would keep his goddaughter relaxed before school started back up.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Authors’ End Note - You know, I honestly thought I would need to break this into two chapters but I couldn’t find a natural break where I could do it and not throw things off. So you guys get this nice long chapter to read today. Thank you so much for reading, and please let us know what you thought of the chapter. See everyone next time! ~ Laran & Rogercat


	9. The Crafter Emerges

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Author’s Note – And here’s another chapter for you guys to enjoy! We really appreciate all of our readers and those who took the time to review. Also, we have another time skip to help move things along.
> 
> Disclaimer – We do not own “Harry Potter,” “The Silmarillion,” or “The Hobbit.” We do not make money from this story.

It was October 19th, and there was a full moon casting its light over the grounds of Hogwarts. Three figures were seen together past Hagrid’s hut as they worked to set up something for Hari. 

“Wood from a holly tree that’s been crafted into a simple staff by an old stone knife, silver pieces, some iron pieces, some of the purest and oldest diamonds that can be bought for money from the goblins, and really unusual rune stones. Hari, what are you planning,” Ron asked, being understandably confused as to why she had requested his help. 

“I want to try and make a magical staff through the old ways like how the Founders of Hogwarts did. If I am to deal with Voldemort without getting killed, I need all the help I can get and after reading the books you recommended, a staff might be able to help me better than my wand. I need to figure out what to do about the brother wand problem, and this is the only way I could think of. Sirius agreed too and helped me get all this together.”

Hermione had already drawn up a large image on the ground, referencing a drawing Hari had given her earlier. 

“This image you wanted for the ritual is rather complex, Hari. The runes here in the inscription are something I have never seen them before.” 

It was no wonder that Hermione would complain, but the witch had used the white chalk to draw out the image of an intricately detailed set of doors. There was a fine inlay showing a hammer, anvil, a crown, and seven stars in the upper part, along with two trees surmounted by crescent moons on the sides, and there was a single star in the middle. On the top left and right corners there were a large C and an N, and between their feet was a D. 

“Those doors are an important symbol from my past life. I believe that I was one of two people who made them. If we use them as a symbol for this ritual for a magical staff, I am sure that it will calm my mind for a while.” 

Using her magic, Hari began by fastening the two iron pieces to the sides of the staff. Then she placed the diamonds in the middle of the top part. The silver was made into very thin thread to “sew” the different items to the staff while she also used some of the remaining silver to carve the runes into the wood. Placing the staff on the single star, she slowly began to sing in a language that was unknown to Ron and Hermione.

“Lord of Khazad-dûm  
Lord Durin  
Oldest of the Seven Fathers  
I plead sanctuary  
Of your mercy  
Grand Halls  
And great mines  
Your kingdom lies  
Deep underground   
Far from the Evil  
Which haunts the world.”

To their big surprise, the image actually started to glow in a silver light as Hari sang. The light enveloped their friend as magic swirled around them, drawing from the runes as well as the items that had been brought to this little ritual.

The witch finished singing, then switched to another tongue that very few non-dwarrow knew to chant her plea to the one who might be able to aid her in this task. The languages came easily to her, emerging from the part of her mind where the memories of a past life stayed in the shadows of partial forgetfulness.

“Mahal, Smith of all,  
Stone Father of the line  
Of Durin, before thee  
I lay my plea.

Mine enemies seek to  
Destroy me - evils old  
And new. The path that  
Lays before me is fraught   
With pain and shadow.

By my hands, I seek to  
Make a tool imbued with dwarvish   
Cunning, courage, and strength.   
With thy blessing, so shall this be  
A weapon to protect those close to  
Me.

Grant me strength, oh Lord of Stone,  
As I walk this path but am never alone.

This I do by my will and by thy grace,  
So mote it be!”

The light went incredibly bright and when it receded, her staff was hovering in front of her but was now changed greatly from what she had started off with. There were runes inscribed in the wood, filled with what Hari recognized as mithril, and the diamond lay snugly on top, held in place by miniature hammers, engraved with stars.

“Oh my,” Hermione murmured from where she had fallen over in surprise. Ron mirrored her shocked face from where he was. 

However, Hari was not fully done yet; there was something else she needed to say. Moving the staff towards the crown and the seven stars, her green eyes suddenly flashed clear blue for a moment as she spoke in an unexpectedly deep voice that was undoubtedly male. 

“Sons of Durin! Current and future Lords of Khazad-dûm! Durin’s Folk! I, the Jewelsmith and Door-maker, hereby grant you my loyalty once more! By the honor of your Seven Fathers and your Maker, I swear that the Enemy shall not be allowed to bring Middle Earth into darkness and ruin!” 

Unknown to Hari, her temporarily male voice was not just heard in the school grounds of Hogwarts. Deep into the Blue Mountains of Middle-Earth, there was a grand set of dwarven halls for the dwarrow of Durin’s Folk, who had survived the dragon attack on Erebor and the war against the orcs. Fili was not the only dwarf to suddenly bolt awake in bed, and he was quick to leave his room to find his mother, brother, and uncle standing in the sitting room. All of them were staring at each other in shock.

“Uncle, you heard it too?”

“I suspect, Fili, that all of those with Durin’s blood heard it,” Thorin replied, running a hand over his bearded jaw. 

As the other three began to discuss what this could possibly mean, Fili sank onto a chair and pondered everything that had been going on in his life so far. He’d done some research into past lives once the dreams had started, and he had a feeling that he’d walked the earth of Arda at least once before. That was partially confirmed when he’d begun dreaming of Hari and had heard of her dreams. 

He had a wisp of an idea of who the pair of them had been in a previous life, but he had no proof and possibly wouldn’t unless he sought out someone who had knowledge of those who had been reborn. Knowing his luck, that would mean a trip to Rivendell and speaking with the elvish scholars there.

If he was right then it meant that his fate was tied to another, and that would not make the council pleased at all as they had hoped to betroth him to a dwarrowdam of a wealthy clan in order to help their people even further since money was still tight. So far, his mother and uncle had been against it and he hoped they would continue to stand strong until Mahal and the other Valar showed him what it was he was meant to do.

“Jewel-smith and Door-maker - those are the titles Celebrimbor was granted by Durin, right?” 

Fili looked up when he heard his brother’s question and nodded as he answered him.

“Yes,” he said. “Celebrimbor was the last elf to ever bear the title of dwarf friend, and he was dearly loved by the line of Durin. Durin himself gave that title to him as well as calling him the Jewel-Smith and Door-Maker. He was the only elf to have a work space in a dwarven mountain as well as to be buried alongside the dwarrow who returned to stone while we still called Khazad-dûm home.”

“So the voice, it had to be Celebrimbor but how?”

“Rebirth perhaps,” Dis answered her youngest. “Our race is not the only one to speak of souls returning; in truth, we know Durin has several times as well as one other elf that I can think of. Maybe the Valar are permitting his return?”

“It wouldn’t be right if Narvi hasn’t been allowed the same,” the archer said, sitting on the back of Fili’s seat. 

Thorin nodded, silently agreeing with his youngest sister-son. Every dwarrow of Durin’s Line knew the tale of Narvi’s fatal grief at the loss of the elf and when the dwarf had died while reclaiming his friend’s body from the Enemy, Durin himself had ensured the two were buried side by side so that they could be together in death as they had not been in life. The texts that had survived the loss of both kingdoms had said that Narvi had confided to the king that Celebrimbor had been his One but had feared ruining the friendship they had shared. 

To date, the tale of Narvi and Celebrimbor was a sad romantic tale that was shared during history lessons. It was a story all of them knew very well, and it was due to this knowledge that the king-in-exile agreed with Kili about Narvi being allowed to return as well. To not allow it would be cruel but then again, the Valar had never been fair to the dwarrow of Durin’s Folk.

“Maybe this is a good omen,” Dis suggested, getting a growing look of hope in her eyes.

“Only one-not-so small problem, Mom; there have been no new elf-births for at least several hundred years from what we have heard about. Surely Celebrimbor, being an elf, would be reborn as one of his own race? Add to that, being killed in the Second Age in a such horrible manner, I doubt he may be quick in being reborn,” Kili pointed out.

“Not necessarily,” Fili objected quietly. “The Valar control rebirths, remember? Chances are good he spent a great deal of much-needed time with Lady Nienna to heal from the trauma before going forward.”

His family nodded, agreeing on that theory. Since an official writing of Celebrimbor’s fatal injuries had been ordered to ensure that Durin’s Folk never forgot the horror of his death, Fili’s theory was incredibly plausible. 

“The question is, what is Durin’s line going to do about this,” the eldest of the two sons asked the adults.

“We keep our eyes open for our friend’s return and aid him in his quest to keep the darkness from reclaiming Middle Earth,” Thorin said to his heir. “He helped us many times during his life, and we will answer his call whenever we find him. We will find him!”

“Agreed,” Dis answered. “If he is reborn, then there is a high risk that the enemy will try and capture him again. We all know the basics of his family line and history; he will draw the darkness to him without really meaning to.”

“He’ll be the only one in our time who will know how to craft the Rings of Power,” Fili said softly. “There will be a lot of people wanting his knowledge once his rebirth is made known. I wonder if it’s just our line who knows or if the elves heard this too?”

They all shuddered at that thought. Thorin recalled how he, as a dwarfling, had overheard Thranduil, the King of Mirkwood, complain to his grandfather Thror that he had no Ring of Power to protect his kingdom and thus needed to draw much of his own spiritual strength to keep the darkness away from his people. It was even worse since his wife’s death since she had helped him a great deal with that task. While Thorin did not think Thranduil would demand a possible Ring of Power from Celebrimbor, he recalled the news he’d heard of the state of Mirkwood and knew it was needed even if Thranduil himself did not say it openly. 

“Which means we need to make sure that no one in our clan speaks of this to anyone else,” Thorin said, sounding determined. “We can give him this until he rejoins us and this time, the line of Durin will not take no when we offer him a place to live with us.”

“He might not like us making that decision for him, especially as we do not even know where he is or how old he could be at the moment,” Kili pointed out to his family. 

“We’ll handle it as tactfully and diplomatically as possible,” his mother agreed. “Which means Balin should probably talk to him about it since Thorin can be as tactful as a hammer on hot metal most of the time.”

Thorin pouted a bit at his sister but didn’t argue, making the two younger dwarrow laugh.

“For now, I think we can suggest an extra prayer for Celebrimbor to the Maker from all of our people as it is Durin’s day tomorrow and we all know that it is common to send extra prayers on behalf of the dead on that day. Everyone knows how important he is for us so it should not be any trouble.” 

“Your mother is correct, and I will make sure the people understand that no word of tonight’s event is ever mentioned to other races or clans of dwarrow,” Thorin agreed. “Now we should return to our beds as tomorrow is a long day.”

Fili bade his family good night and once he was in his room, he sat on the bed and looked out the window. His thoughts were on Hari, and he had a suspicion that his friend was somehow tied into Celebrimbor’s rebirth. By her own admission, she had suspicions on who she had been but had no way to really confirm it.

If she indeed was Celebrimbor, he had to wonder what his role in all of this was and why he seemed to be tied to her in such a way because this was not a normal thing for his kind. Spouses from the races of men and elves were practically unheard of, with only a few documented cases in that long gone past. 

Then, he suddenly realized one thing; if she was the reincarnation of the Door-Maker, the Valar must have placed Celebrimbor’s soul in the body of a mortal daughter of men to hide her from Sauron. No one would look for the famed grandson of Fëanor in a such body, not among the mortals!

At that realization, his stomach clenched somewhat. He would have to find a way to protect her if she found herself on Arda; his friend would not come to harm. Fili promised this to himself, clenching his fists in determination as he did so.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Author’s End Note - And now the dwarrow have reason to believe that their dear friend may be returning and in need of their help. Rogercat and I were debating on how Thorin and his family would react to this and felt that the House of Durin would do all they could to aid and protect Celebrimbor once they found him. We hope you enjoyed this chapter; thank you all for reading and please let us know what you thought of this! ~ Laran & Rogercat


	10. Confrontations

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Author’s Note - We have another time skip, and there’s also at least one ‘flashback’ to a past life. The flashbacks will be marked with ~ to show where they are so you won’t be confused. We hope you enjoy the chapter!
> 
> Disclaimer – We do not own “the Hobbit,” “the Silmarillion,” or “Harry Potter.” We do not make money from this story.

Hari shifted in her spot in the dark damp room she’d been locked in. She wasn’t sure where she was or where her friends were either. The witch hissed in worry and pain as she stared out into the darkness, thinking back on what had happened earlier.

The ritual to create her staff had drawn the attention of the one teacher they had been trying to keep their heads down around. Umbridge had stunned all three of them, taking them off guard, and Hari had woken up in this miserable room. It brought back blurry memories of the dungeon Sauron had kept her in as a prisoner between the rounds of torture he’d put her past self through. 

The dark haired witch silently scolded herself for not being more vigilant in ensuring they were not watched. Now her friends were somewhere, and she had no clue where she or they were. All she could do was hope and pray that Ron and Hermione were safe because Hari had a feeling that something was about to go dreadfully wrong.

The door opened, allowing a crack of light to be seen, and she cursed to herself when she recognized the distinctive drawl of one Lucius Malfoy.

“Up,” he ordered. “You have an audience today, and it’s best to not keep the Dark Lord waiting.”

Voldemort?! The toad had taken her to the Death Eaters?! An angry snarl left her lips, and Lucius got an unexpected headbutt in the stomach when he tried to drag her up on her feet. 

“Sirius is really gonna DISOWN your wife and son as possible heirs to the Black family when he learns about this,” she screamed, stomping on his foot and not giving him a chance to get a hold of her.

“Black won’t have time to do so,” he sneered as he petrified her with a silent spell.

Hari growled to herself as her stiff form was levitated and dragged out of the cell. She could only stare up at the ceiling, wondering if her friends were all right and if anyone had an idea of where she was. The witch didn’t harbor any hope that Voldemort would treat her nicely. She was in for a painful time while in his clutches, and she just hoped she could bear it until a chance for escape presented itself or she was rescued. 

The sound of Voldemort’s voice chilled her as she was brought into the room where he was waiting. Even petrified, she could see Death Eaters waiting and Hari was set on the floor.

The petrification was lifted, and the wizard spoke to his captive.

“Welcome, young Harriet,” he hissed softly. “I have waited for this for some time, and I mean to enjoy myself until you beg for death. You have much to answer for, and I will make sure you suffer for it. CRUCIO!”

Her body seized in agony, locking her breath in her chest for a moment before being released in a loud scream.

‘Narvi...Narvi...Narvi, help!! No again...not again! Narvi!!’ she mentally pleaded in growing horror, the memories of Sauron’s torture surfacing again. For a moment, she was back in her old elven body and it was not Voldemort in front of her but Sauron. 

Pain raced hotly through her body as spell after spell was thrown at her, and her mind kept going from this reality to the agony she’d endured under Sauron’s cruelty. What finally ripped the veil that had separated her from her past memories was when one of the Death Eaters savagely broke every bone in her hands before mangling them further by cutting the muscles and tendons there. 

It was as if a lock had brutally been torn apart, releasing her memories, altering her magic somewhat as well as causing other changes the Valar had intended to happen once she was in Arda. Hari’s black hair loosened from the braid as it became even longer, and while her body became slightly taller, her face became thinner than the heart-shaped face she had inherited from Lily Potter. It was unseen due to being lost in her hair, but her ears became slightly pointed as well. When she opened her eyes a little bit, barely conscious, her eyes now had a small hint of crystal blue among all the green. 

“You…!” Hari whispered faintly in Quenya, her voice deeper than normal because of her old personality partly awakening. The old fire of Fëanor, the elf who had been her paternal grandfather, slowly started to burn deep inside her spirit once more.

She couldn’t continue with the rant as more spells were thrown at her, causing her to lose control and scream with the agony that simply seemed to build without any hope of stopping. Mentally, she saw the faces of her father, uncles, and grandfather. 

“Everyone...I am so sorry! I tried...to rebuild the old honor...of our House! To remove...the stain caused by the Oath...and the Kinslayings! I wanted...l wanted...your names to not be...those of murderers anymore! I wanted to...remind people that...it was not something you...always had been! Because I...recall old times, a time when...we all were actually happy...acting like a...real family who...cared for and loved each other!” 

The words spilled from her lips in the old elvish language, confusing everyone around her as she pleaded to those she had once loved in the past.

As Hari was thrown on her back by a spell, a single tear fell from one of her eyes. She saw the green light of the killing curse coming towards her, and the laughing face of Narvi suddenly filled her vision.

“Look, Celebrimbor, the Doors of Durin are finally finished!!” 

A silver light blocked the killing curse from reaching her and reflecting it so that the spell nearly hit one of the Death Eaters instead. The silver light took the shape of the famous Doors of Durin she and Narvi once had built so long ago.

“What?!” Voldemort hissed, taken aback by the way the spell had been blocked. “What did you do?”

“I don’t know,” she answered in a soft voice, forcing herself to speak in English.

When he heard the answer, more torture spells were thrown at her to try to break her so she would tell him how she had blocked his curse, but the silver doors would not break from the circle that had formed around her. Each time, the spells went flying somewhere else and Hari finally could catch her breath. However, the pain was overwhelming along with the memories of her past death and she lost consciousness.

~Orcs. Those horrible monsters created by the Evil. Pain. Then, a shouting in the Dwarven tongue over the marching feet: “He is ours to protect; you have no claim to him!”

Who? That voice...a voice he knew…

Barely opening his eyes, Celebrimbor breathed out a name he knew as well as his own.

“Narvi?” 

The dwarven battle cries he had heard the few times he had gone along with the dwarrow to hunt orcs were a comforting sound among all the pain. He had given up all hope of being saved, knowing that it would be impossible with the armies from Sauron’s domains having been assembled to gain everything the Dark Lord wanted.~

The dream was broken, and Hari came to in the cell. Everything hurt, and she wondered how long she would have to endure this before help came or her body finally gave out. It was a thought she was familiar with, and the memories of her past self were a mess in her mind. Needing something to distract herself with, the witch began to meditate and tried to organize her mind.

Time passed her by unnoticed except for the times she was taken before Voldemort for questioning about the power that had shown up during their first meeting as his captive. She had no answers for him, not that she would tell him had she known what had kept the curse from hitting her, and she would endure tortures that caused her nerves to scream from pain, burned her, and anything else the sadistic group of witches and wizards could come up with.

The only respite she had was when she was able to sleep and could join her dear friend in their meeting place. Fili had ranted and raved at learning that she had been captured by Voldemort, wanting to free her and feeling helpless that he couldn’t, but he had eventually stopped doing so and would hold her during their time together and tell her stories about his family. He created a time of peace so she could recover a bit of mental strength before having to go through all of the pain once more when she woke.

Hari was grateful for her friend, unable to speak much and wishing she had a way to tell him that she finally had confirmation of who she had been. The pain had limited her in how much she could speak, even in her dreams, and Fili simply let her rest without saying a word.

How long this cycle continued, the witch couldn’t say but she was startled by a change when, instead of being taken to Voldemort’s assembly area, she was dragged to another large hallway.

“My Death Eaters, today we stage an attack on the Ministry itself! Our goals are to infiltrate the Department of Mysteries so that the prophecy spoken about me will finally be heard in its entirety. We shall also take over the Ministry and change our world so that we will finally be rid of the influences that have started destroying our traditions.”

A part of her had a growing feeling that her own, Ron’s and Hermione’s absences from Gryffindor tower would have triggered an alarm by now because they had been wise enough to tell Hagrid and the school guards that they would be out for an evening walk on the school grounds and if they were not back before midnight, it would mean that something was wrong. Hari hoped this meant that everyone would be on alert and not be taken off guard by this attack.

“Sirius...please...everyone...please stop them!” 

In fact, Sirius was at the Ministry at that very moment, deeply worried for his missing goddaughter. Fudge had already gotten a warning the moment the alarm had been raised that Hari was gone from the school grounds so now they tried to figure out what had happened. 

“Any guess on this, Mr. Black? It’s been some time since she’s gone missing.” 

“Well, I can honestly say that Hari and her friends are not stupid enough to do something like this to joke with people? I know my goddaughter well enough to know she wouldn’t be gone this long without notifying someone as to where she is, and Ron and Hermione would never be part of a prank like this.”

A vibration in his pocket drew Sirius’s attention away from the conversation, and he quickly drew out an ebony framed mirror. He tapped a rune, frowning when a familiar face appeared in the silvered surface. 

“Hermione? What is it? Is everything all right?”

The man had become even more protective of Hermione and Ron when the pair had been discovered on the lawn near the Whomping Willow, unconscious and hurt, and the pair of teenagers had been grateful for him as their best friend stayed absent.

“No, Sirius, everything’s not all right. Luna had a vision and came to warn us; Voldemort is on his way to the Ministry to take it over as well as find out if the prophecy is real or not. We’ve alerted Professor Flitwick, and he’s getting people together to help since it’s so late at night. He suggested we warn you since you know Minister Fudge.”

Gray eyes looked up to find Fudge sending messages and putting the building into lock-down. The man had really come a long way in earning his respect when he’d taken Hari seriously about the petition, and she’d been willing to work with him because he’d been the first adult to treat her as more than a child or an object.

“As luck would have it, he’s here with me and making preparations. Hermione, I want you and Ron to stay there. I will contact you as soon as everything is done, all right? Merlin and the gods willing, I’ll be bringing Hari back home.”

“Please be careful, Sirius,” she asked, hazel eyes full of worry.

“I will be,” he promised. “Do me a favor, contact Moony and tell him he’s needed, will you? I’ll be helping with preparations here and can’t do it. Tell him to raise as many of the old crowd as he possibly can.”

“I’ll take care of it,” she promised, then ended the call.

Sirius turned to the minister, tucking the mirror away. 

“What can I do to help?”

“The night staff has been warned and are preparing what traps they can; I sent a patronus to Amelia to get her and the off-duty aurors here immediately. Croaker will assemble the Unspeakables,” he said. 

“Hermione Granger informed a professor so we may be getting aid from the Hogwarts staff,” he told the smaller male. “She’s also calling a friend of mine, and Remus will pull others together to help here as well.”

“The biggest issue is getting Miss Potter away from You-Know-Who if he brings her with him,” Fudge said firmly. “Hero or not, a child or teenager has no place on a battlefield. I let Croaker know I want her pulled out as soon as possible without causing her harm.”

“Might not hurt to alert Saint Mungo’s to be ready for casualties,” Sirius suggested.

Cornelius Fudge pulled an intern aside, giving instructions to ensure the hospital was warned, and he gestured for Sirius to follow him. The two men went to prepare for the attack, hoping the missing teenager would be all right until they could get her away from the maniacs who had her.

Hari was more dragged along the ground since she was unable to stand up, her body in too much pain to almost even move. Right now, the memories of her two different lives nearly overlapped each other in a disoriented mess in her mind since she hadn’t been able to properly meditate after the last bout of torture. It was making her confused about who she really was. Was she Celebrimbor, the cursed descendant of Fëanor, or Harriet Potter? She did not know; she could not remember. 

The young witch shuddered as she was dragged into the lobby of the Ministry, watching as people fell - Death Eaters and normal witches and wizards alike. The carnage was difficult for her to take, and tears fell from her eyes as she was forced to watch this. From the cursing she could hear from Voldemort, she could tell he was furious by the amount of heavy resistance he and his group were facing. Then, she saw someone familiar in the middle of all the stray spells- her godfather. 

“S...Si...no...I can’t...lose him...too!” 

Biting her lips hard enough to draw blood as she had so many times during her captivity, Hari tried to summon anything that would prevent him from being killed. Just Sirius was forced to fall to the ground in order to avoid the killing curse from his insane cousin Bellatrix, the silver doors which had protected Hari now acted like a shield in front of him. 

“Not those damned silver doors again!” Lucius cursed, dragging Hari along on Voldemort’s order. 

Unfortunately for him, he slipped on a rather random item on the floor, a simple shard of glass actually, but it gave Kreacher enough time to slam a heavy copper frying pan in the back of his head from above. 

“Kreacher! Dobby! Take her away from this mess,” Sirius ordered, conjuring a large sheet over Bellatrix to block her sight. No one wondered who he meant; the two house-elves obeyed, but a stray stunning spell hit them both.

Hari carefully put them in a safe spot, not wanting them to be hurt, and as soon as she did that, a cold hand gripped her by the hair and dragged her painfully to her feet.

“I still will get what I am here for,” Voldemort hissed in anger as he dragged her from the scene of the battle.

Sirius, Fudge, Flitwick, as well as other fighters followed them, and the Dark Lord was infuriated to find a team of Unspeakables waiting for him in the Department of Mysteries. Sirius used the Dark Lord’s momentary shock as a chance to toss a dagger to Hari, who drove it deep into Voldemort’s bare foot as she nearly collapsed in pain when he had let go of her, defending himself against the incoming spells. 

His roar of pain gave her enough energy to move. Hari crawled out of the way into a corner, watching the fight as another well known figure joined the fray. Albus Dumbledore looked furious when he caught sight of his student, and he was bound and determined to end this tonight if at all possible. A memory from Celebrimbor’s life came to her, and she slowly began to sing between panting gasps of pain.

“A dream of the past  
A road to the future  
Mountains to stone  
Rivers to sea  
Locked in time  
Frozen in time  
What is lost  
Can never return  
Past and present  
Make time stop!” 

Hari did not even remember what it meant, only that it once had been a popular riddle game between the dwarflings in Khazad-dûm. Now, it acted like a magical spell, combining with the heat of her magic and the cool power she often felt when crafting. The spell reached the dark wizard, freezing him in place in front of very large veil, and she knew what she had to do.

The witch drew on what strength she had left and climbed to her feet, running to Voldemort as she forced her new staff to appear out of the hammer-shaped bracelet she had hidden with some magic. It glowed as it reinforced the locking spell the teenager had managed to cast, and she didn’t stop running as she worked her magic, slamming into him hard enough to propel both of them into the spidery feel of the cold cloth of the veil.

“Hari!!”

All eyes were focused on the veil as the witch and wizard disappeared but before they could react, a deep voice was heard.

“And so the prophecy ends,” it said dryly as Sirius sank to his knees. “Do not fear the wizard’s return, the abominations he created were destroyed during the little one’s third year when it was pointed out to me by my counterpart that I could do more to aid the child. He now faces my judgment and will find it a bitter potion to swallow.”

“And the child,” Dumbledore asked, tears in his eyes. “She was innocent in all this, marked by fate for a task that should never have been hers.”

“She has another destiny to fulfill and a chance for a happy life,” Death replied. “Her soulmate waits for her in another land, and I am passing her to my counterpart as we speak. Do not mourn her but be glad for she will find peace and love in Arda.”

The voice spoke no more, leaving the group to mourn their losses. Death had no time to waste because he had one more task to handle before he could punish the wizard who had sought to evade him for so long.

“Harriet,” he called out, approaching the battered child who had collapsed on her front, gasping for breath even as her staff returned to her wrist as a hammer shaped bracelet. “You have done well, little witch. The prophecy that marked you in your old world is fulfilled. It is now time to face your new destiny. Return to the world where you first were born, and where you truly belong.”

She felt cool arms pick her up, and she was passed to another set of arms. These felt strong, warm, and somewhat familiar.

“She is yours now, Mandos,” the first voice said. 

“She is indeed,” the Vala answered.

“Mandos...the...the Doomsman...of Arda....” 

Faintly, Hari could recall how the Doom of Mandos had been spoken, declaring the family as Exiles from Valinor if they did not return. As she fell into a deep sleep, Mandos walked through the portal that he had used to arrive to this other world. 

“Be at peace, Harriet Potter,” Mandos told her. “Help shall come for you soon and in time, you will find your other half. He and those he calls family will aid you in destroying that Maia and avenging your past death.”

There was pressure and then nothing as she slipped into unconsciousness, not knowing that she had been placed on a familiar pathway where she would be found by two residents of a special valley.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Author’s End Note - And now Hari is in Middle Earth where her soul originated from. The story is now moving forward into plot instead of world building as we had been. We’re enjoying things so far, and we hope you liked this chapter too. Thanks for reading; please leave a note to share your thoughts with us. See you next week! ~Laran & Rogercat


	11. Discovery

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Authors’ Notes – I apologize for the length of time it’s taken to get everything posted. I ran into a very bad fibro day on Wednesday and then a doctor’s appointment later to find the reason for my being so off the last week or more. I’ve got a double whammy in regards to inner ear infections and sinus infection. I had to message Rogercat to let her know what was going on. So I really apologize for the lateness in posting! Thank you so much for your patience. 
> 
> Disclaimer – We do not own “The Hobbit,” “Harry Potter,” or “the Silmarillion.” We do not make money from this story.

Elladan and Elrohir, twin sons of Lord Elrond, were not often taken by surprise but the sight of a girl laying in the path was certainly something they were not used to seeing. The eldest slipped off of his horse, moving to check on the figure. The younger followed mere seconds after the elder.

“What is a daughter of Men doing here,” Elrohir asked, worried due to what he he could see of the wounds on her body. 

Elladan caught sight of the elvish looking ears as he picked her up, looking back at his younger brother.

“I do not think she is fully a daughter of Man,” he told his brother. “It’s of no matter; we need to get her to Adar before she goes into shock. Elrohir, lend me your cloak.”

The two wrapped the girl in the cloak, then remounted their horses and hurried for home. They knew time was of the essence for the girl Elladan held as they rode quickly.

Elrond, who was taking a short nap on the resting couch in the library, was suddenly jerked awake by a burning sensation from the magical sapphire in Vilya, the Ring of Air he wore. Muttering a mild curse under his breath as he shook his hand to cool off the heat from his poor finger, he looked up when he heard a knock at his door.

“Adar,” a sweet voice was heard.

“Yes, Arwen?”

“The twins are home; they didn’t return alone. You’re urgently needed in the Halls of Healing,” she told him.

The elf lord grabbed a robe, throwing it on as he hurried towards the door. Usually, he would spend more time on his appearance but if Arwen said it was urgent, then it meant he had no time to spend on dressing. Who knew what could happened if he wasted time to be vain.

The pair entered the Halls of Healing, finding one of the elleths who worked there waiting for him. 

“I was able to remove the rags she was wearing, my lord, but could not remove the bracelet from her wrist. It looks as if she has been badly beaten, and her hands are the worst of her injuries. This will require your skill, my lord, as none of us will be able to restore mobility to her hands.”

Elrond paled at seeing the ruined hands on the girl; it reminded him a great deal of his nightmares at what horrors Celebrimbor must have been treated to by Sauron being being captured. He pulled himself together, giving orders as he examined the girl.

Broken bones, deep bruising, and heavy lacerations were what he found in regards to the rest of her body; thankfully, the poor child had not been violated so that was one concern he would not have to contemplate.

The elf lord focused on the more serious injuries first. He would be able to fix her hands to where she could use them to craft if she desired, but there would be scarring and pain during inclement weather. He cursed whoever did this to her as he worked.

One thing that surprised him was how eagerly the ring supplied power to aid him in his tasks. While it did lend him power when he acted as healer to save lives, it rarely was supplied energy this easily. It confused him, and he would have to check with Galadriel later to see if this had ever happened to her with Nenya. The Rings of Power could be a little odd at times, which didn’t surprise him too much given who had created them. 

Eventually, the Lord of Imladris sighed and looked up to where his children were waiting.

“She will live,” he announced. “Her hands will be able to craft if she wishes, but they will be scarred and painful during bad weather. The rest of the injuries, I was able to minimize the scarring for once they were healed. I’ve no idea how this happened to her; where did you find her?”

At his sons’ answer, he raised an eyebrow in ever-growing confusion. The path was one that was not well known nor was it traveled heavily, even by his own people. 

“It seems we have a bit of a mystery here,” he mused. “We will have to wait for her to wake before we can find our answers. Come, you two should clean up from your journey and then we will dine together.”

It took two days for their guest to wake, and it happened when Elrond was changing the bandages on her hands. He heard the soft sound she’d made and looked up to find a pair of emerald green eyes watching him in confusion.

“Do not be afraid,” he told her. “My sons found you and brought you here. You are safe in my home. I am Elrond.”

“Harriet Potter,” she whispered, accepting his help to drink some cool water.

“How did you come to be so injured?”

Harriet remembered some of who Elrond was and trusted him with her story. She quietly told him about being from another world, finding out that she was the reincarnation of someone from this world, and how she’d been captured by the one who had killed her parents. The tale was shared slowly, and he listened attentively to it. Once she had finished telling her story, the elf lord leaned back in his chair.

“Rebirth is a gift given to dwarrow and humans,” he began softly. “I do not know about it is for hobbits, and I know of only two elves who were restored to life. Reincarnation is not something my people are allowed to do so the Valar must have wanted something to happen in your new life. You said you were touched by fate twice so this must be the explanation for it.”

Then, as Elrond took one more clear look on his new charge, he realized that she seemed oddly familiar somehow. Not exactly like people he had known and now were long gone, but enough to trigger a memory of sort. It was not easy, as he had met many people over his long life, but he was fairly certain it must have been someone he had known closely. Before he could say anything else, another elf entered the room. His eyes widened as he recognized the thick golden hair and slightly goofy smile.

“Sorry to interrupt..I...it can’t be. Curufin,” he asked in shock, given that Hari now had became a little more like how her old, male body once had looked.

“Wrong generation in the House created by my grandfather, Sunshine,” she said softly, giving him a gentle smile while knowing that Glorfindel hated that old nickname he had gotten in childhood.

“Ilúvatar above, Celebrimbor?”

“It’s me, Glorfindel,” she assured him. “Though I go by Harriet Potter or Hari now for those who are my friends.”

The Balrog Slayer needed to sit down on a chair and in his shock, he was clumsy enough to slide right off the edge. 

She giggled at his actions, smiling as he put himself back in the chair. Her memories, she noticed, were blended now so one of the Valar must have done something during her transit from England to Arda.

“Celebrimbor, I can’t believe it,” the golden haired elf murmured. “I thought for certain your soul rested with Mandos.”

“Long history, part of it happened in order to hide from An...Him. The idea of being in the halls with my blood family, plus the damage I took during captivity, I couldn’t handle it. I kept wishing for a safe place and wound up being reborn in another world. Not that it was safe either but at least I had a chance to heal. I would have preferred to NOT have another dark lord, a madman of a human, after me.” 

The two elves noticed her stop at nearly saying Annatar, revealing that his betrayal was still a very sore point. 

“You have a chance to finish healing here,” Elrond offered. “It will take time for your body to regain its strength, and I can imagine you have not had to use your training during this current life. We will be happy to help you relearn your fighting skills so that you can succeed in whatever you do.”

Hari was quiet for a moment, tilting her head.

“There’s things I need to do,” she said to him. “He is not gone, right? He is still ruining Arda, I can sense it through the rings.” 

Indeed Vilya seemed to glow at her words, as if trying to tell its reborn creator that Sauron was not fully defeated yet.

“Saruman is convinced the enemy is no more,” Elrond observed, making Glorfindel snort.

“That damned Istar wouldn’t see anything beyond the books he so loves,” the Balrog Slayer told his friend. “He’s bigoted, arrogant for being a Maia of Aule, and I really want to punch him every time he shows up in Imladris. How Mithrandir and even Radagast puts up with him, I do not know. Truthfully, if Hari says the enemy isn’t gone, then we need to start preparing.”

“What has happened here in Middle-Earth since my death? Is Khazad-dûm still standing?”

Hari already knew the truth from Fili, but she wanted to hear the elven version of the events as well.

“Khazad-dûm is now Moria, filled with goblins and orcs,” Elrond answered. “The dwarves lost their home when some monster emerged from the deep and were unable to fight it. You were the only tie between our people and the children of Mahal back then, and the anger is deep between them even if they did understand why we could not save you from Sauron.”

“Wait, I understand the distrust between the clans that were in the Blue Mountains but the Longbeards did nothing to gain mistrust from our people,” she objected, noticing both of them flinch a bit.

“True,” Glorfindel told her. “Unfortunately, our people gained blinders when it comes to our fellow elves. The Longbeards have reason to distrust us thanks to the actions of Thranduil.”

“Thranduil? The son of Oropher, one of the surviving nobles of Doriath? I think I can recall them slightly if I think about it hard enough.”

“Not again, Glorfindel,” the Lord of Imladris groaned. “I admit he did the wrong thing and is being stubborn and denying aid to the refugees, but Thror did anger him.”

“Over pretty trinkets no less,” the blond rebutted. “Are we sure the idiot king of the Greenwood isn’t gold mad? Because our first task is to aid the younger races and he broke that.” 

Hari knew she had to change the subject, having a feeling that this was a familiar argument between the pair. 

“While I’m thinking about it, Elrond; did you finally get enough courage to court Celebrian? I recall how you would act around her and being dead does not exactly allow one to keep up with current events.” 

Elrond blushed slightly at the memory, but he regarded it with fondness as Celebrimbor sometimes had literally pushed him towards Celebrian to help out. 

“Yes, we had three children together, twin boys and a wonderful daughter. It was the boys who found you. She is sadly not here anymore; no, no, she is not in the Halls! She was attacked by orcs and had to leave for Valinor for healing. I can heal the wounds of the body, but spiritual wounds are beyond my power to heal.”

“I’m sorry to hear that she’s no longer with you in this part of the world. I am sure that she was a wonderful life-partner before the attack,” she said softly in sadness, remembering how spirited the silver-haired elleth had been whenever she’d visited Celebrimbor’s workshop. 

“She was, and she is deeply missed,” Elrond answered. “I know I will see her again when the time comes to sail so I carry on as I must.”

She smiled faintly at hearing that; it was good to hear Elrond having a motive to carry on for the time. Remembering his past, it was no surprise that Elrond secretly had some deep abandonment issues, especially when it came to family members. 

“Has there been any news about Uncle Maglor? Is he still wandering along the shores in exile? Because if he has allowed himself to be killed by Sauron, I am gonna give him a piece of my mind about that the next time I see him!” 

The two elves filled her in, sharing news about those who had been kin to her in her past life as well as events that had taken place after her death. She was quiet, asking questions at times, and eventually, they began discussing what was needed to help her regain her strength as well as the skills she had in the past.

“I have a feeling I am going to be in pain for a good while,” she said, making the others laugh as she grumbled playfully. “I would like some really hot tea with honey and whiskey.” 

Elrond raised an eyebrow at those words but recalled how Celebrimbor had loved his tea that way and guessed that Hari must have inherited it in this new life.

“I think we can provide that,” he said, rising to his feet. “However, I must disappoint you in that the alcohol is of elvish make, not dwarvish.”

“It’s all right,” she said. “This fifteen year old body isn’t used to drinking so I’ll have to work my way up to dwarvish alcohol.” 

“Fifteen,” Glorfindel blurted out since that was around the age mortals tended to marry if they were of high birth. 

“What,” Hari asked in a blunt manner that reminded them of her first life. 

Elrond chuckled, heading out to place the request and order food for his guest. When the lord had left, she looked at the blond.

“Is there anyone who can help train in magic? Not just the elvish kind but another source altogether? In my other birth-world I belonged to a world consisting of magical people, but it was a very different kind of magic than what’s practiced here in Arda.”

“Mithrandir might be able to help, but he is difficult to track down most of the time. I will send a messenger bird to see if he can be found, and perhaps he can at least give advice as to how you should proceed,” he told his friend. “Chances are good that your magic is different than his. Do you still have the elvish magic?”

“I do,” she said, then told him about what she had done to Voldemort and how the magic used had not been the kind she’d been learning to use at school. 

Glorfindel listened, then nodded as he thought about what can be done to help her

“I see. I think the best thing to be done right now is to work on your fighting skills and refresh your memory on what your elvish magic can do,” he began. “As far as the other magic you possess, I would play with it and see what you can get it to do. Sometimes, intent is just as potent as spells.”

“I’ll try to remember that,” she said. “I have a lot to try to learn or relearn before it’s time to leave Imladris to fulfill my destiny here.”

“We will aid you in that; I need to determine one rather important question as well since you are so certain the enemy is not gone. I am concerned as to why Saruman has been so adamant that the One Ring is no longer able to be found and the enemy is gone.”

“Maybe he truly believes it,” she answered. “I don’t know. I have not been here since my death so I am not sure that I even would know who the Istari are.”

By now, the painkiller started to vanish and the pain in her hands slowly returned. Elrond, who had returned with a tray of food, had to help Hari since she needed to let her hands heal. Once she ate, she was given a potion that would ease her pain as well as let her rest. 

The Lord of Imladris left an elf on watch, motioning Glorfindel to follow him. They had much to speak on and plans to make. He had a feeling life was going to be incredibly busy now that the famed Jewel-Smith of Ost-in-Edhil had returned.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Author’s End Note - I hope everyone enjoys this. Again, I apologize for the lateness in the posting. Hopefully, these infections will disappear and I can think clearly again. Thank you for reading! ~ Laran & Rogercat


	12. Adding a Hobbit

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Authors’ Note - I’m afraid I must apologize for the delay in posting; my mother passed away at the end of February, and it’s taken me this long to finally regain some of my inspiration. Until recently, I hadn’t been able to stomach the idea of writing and when I opened my word processing program, I just stared at a blank screen. Rogercat has also been handling a loss in her family as well; it just seems to be a bad year for everyone. I have to thank Rogercat for her patience and kind sympathies. I just hope my muses don’t abandon me again.
> 
> Warnings – Time skip, female Bilbo with special gifts
> 
> Disclaimer – We do not own “Harry Potter,” “the Hobbit,” or “the Silmarillion.” We also do not make money from this story.

The next seven years slowly passed. After healing from her injuries, Hari began her training so she would have the skills from her old life back. Being in a human body made it a little tricky since humans didn’t have the reflexes or agility that elves did. The fact that a female body is built differently from a male body made things a challenge for her, but she did her best. She adapted, learning what she needed to know, and she spoke to Fili about everything as it happened. There was only one fact that she kept from him, knowing this needed to be spoken of face to face. Something told her she would have that chance as changes were brewing – not only in Imladris but others locations as well.

Unbeknownst to Hari, the changes were also occurring in a small little area known as the Shire as the dwarf she had met and befriended in her dreams had gone there with his uncle, family, and friends in order to gain the final member of the company that would change everything for the Longbeards.

“Repeat that again, Thain Took, because I am not fully certain I heard you correctly,” Thorin requested, hoping that he had heard wrong. 

“You heard me correctly,” the elderly hobbit said. “This should not be a problem for you; you need a hobbit for this quest, and Gandalf wants your betrothed to be the one who goes with your company. I have no issue with her going. However, for the sake of propriety, you need to marry Acacia before you two leave with your group. I will not have what’s left of her reputation ruined.” 

Mentally, Thorin groaned. He had not planned for his visit in the Shire to end up like this. He had come to visit his betrothed to tell her of the final plans to retake Erebor and get some fresh supplies before heading out. What he hadn’t expected was for a certain meddling wizard to insist that a hobbit was needed to join the group as a burglar to sneak into Erebor, and he was even more displeased to discover that the insane wizard wanted his betrothed to become said burglar.

“It’s not going to be a safe journey,” he said softly. “I know Acacia has been trained to defend herself during her visits to Ered Luin, but this is going to be a treacherous journey. I don’t want her safety compromised, but the damned wizard insists on her coming along.”

“I know,” Gerontius said to him. “However, it’s reaching the point where my granddaughter may not be safe in the Shire for much longer. Even with the help of your priests, her gifts are getting stronger. I was about to send for you to see about moving the wedding up.”

“Dis is going to kill you and me for not allowing her sister-in-law to wear the wedding dress she and her ladies-in-waiting have sewn for the wedding. It’s made from what we managed to save of the family bridal gown that every new royal bride in the line of Durin has worn as well as the lace Acacia’s grandmother and aunts crafted for her.”

“Not necessarily,” he replied soothingly. “As I suggested, we can use this as a way to protect her reputation and keep her out of danger here in the Shire. Don’t consummate the marriage after the ceremony here, and then Dis can plan a royal wedding once you have your kingdom back. I’ll even write her and let her know what’s going on so she won’t be angry with you. Thorin, I can’t let Acacia stay here much longer. Some of the Bagginses and other families are treating her poorly, almost violently.”

“What?! Being that kind of seer is a holy gift among the Stone Children, a rare gift from the Lady of Mercy that only dams are blessed with.” 

“The idea of anyone being able to interact with the dead frightens most hobbits,” the thain stated. “The only ones who remember this kind of thing are the Tooks and Brandybucks, and only then because the gift randomly shows up in those two lines. This was why Acacia was chosen to be betrothed to you to seal the treaty, remember?”

Thorin remembered, having been in awe of her gift when he’d met her during his first visit to the Shire. Acacia had not even been of age then, but she had already managed to see that he was one of the dwarrow who had been reincarnated. She hadn’t been able to see who he had been in the past. Being from the thain’s family, she had been seen as among the closest thing the Shire had to royal blood and thus fitting for a king. No one had argued about the betrothal since it was needed to seal the treaty between the hobbits and dwarrow; food and other supplies had been too important to worry about the bride chosen for the king of Durin’s Folk.

“Right,” he murmured, rubbing his forehead. “I’ll do it if she’s in agreement, and you are the one who gets to explain all this to Dis. Fair warning, you may have to duck anything thrown at you if she decides to head here to yell.”

“She’ll be able to wear the dress for the royal wedding in Erebor,” Gerontius reminded him. “She’ll be fine with it once she hears the explanation. Are you in a hurry to leave the Shire?”

“We need to be at the mountain before Durin’s day, which falls on the 19th of October this year, and we will need the Lord of Imladris’ help to read the map to find the keyhole. Since I want to be at the mountain around that day and there’s no telling how long the elf will take to figure out the map, I need to leave the Shire as soon as possible.”

“We can have the wedding this evening then,” the thain said. “Her aunts and grandmother won’t be too pleased with the rush, but that can be made up to them whenever invitations to the royal wedding come out. I have a feeling they’ll insist on helping Dis with the planning.`”

At the sound of the door opening, Thorin turned around to see his sister-sons standing in the doorway. Both had looks of concern on their faces, stemming from the fact they cared about their future aunt and knew she wouldn’t be happy with the rushed wedding. 

“Fili, Kili, please find Acacia and tell her that it would please me to see her in her best dress this evening. Ask Bombur to help with the cooking while she makes herself pretty. A bride should not have to cook on her wedding.” 

“Are you sure about Bombur, uncle? Mrs. Adamanta and her daughters tried to break a skillet over his head when he made the attempt during the last visit, remember? It wasn’t pretty,” Fili reminded his uncle.

Thorin winced at the memory, knowing the Took women were territorial about their kitchens, and poor Bombur had nearly had his skull cracked when he’d been chased out of the kitchen the last time the group had come to the Shire.

“Get him to buy fresh food for the journey then; we will need it.” 

The two brothers bowed, then went to fulfill their orders while the thain went to make the announcement to his wife. Moments later, there was a sharp sounding “WHAT?” coming from another area of the grand smial, and Thorin’s shoulders shook with muted laughter. He had a feeling Gerontius was going to get an ear full very soon; he just hoped he wouldn’t be targeted by an unhappy hobbit lass or matron.

His hopes were soon dashed as an adult hobbit lass, dressed in her gardening clothes, entered the thain’s office. Thorin could see that her hands were covered in soil. 

“Thorin Oakenshield, what is all of this about us getting married tonight,” she asked in slight fury, looking even prettier with her cheeks flushed in anger. 

“Ask your grandfather, my dear,” he said softly, bowing when she entered the study. 

He was pretty sure that Acacia must have been a dwarrowdam in a past life for she was fairly matched in temper to the dams of his race when it came to anger and pride. Thorin had seen her hold her own in arguments with his sister and Gloin’s wife, and she’d earned a lot of respect from them because of it.

“I know that we have talked about me coming along on the journey to the mountain as the final trial of proving myself worthy as Queen of Durin’s Folk, but I am sure that we did not plan to have the wedding before that! I have been looking forward to it, despite knowing it’ll turn out to be an overly grand affair.” 

“There are reasons for this, Acacia,” Gerontius told his granddaughter as he entered the study too. His red left ear was proof that he must have gotten it boxed in response to the announcement about the hurried wedding. “One, you cannot go with the company and not be married to Thorin. Your reputation will be shattered, and you will be a target for men if you are not bound to someone. Secondly, you will have your big wedding in Erebor once the kingdom is reclaimed. Thirdly, my child, you cannot remain in the Shire for much longer. Not after what happened last week.”

Acacia shuddered at the memory. If not for the battle training given to her by Dis and the other dams at the royal court, who knew how it could have ended. 

“Exactly,” the thain told his granddaughter. “So you’ll marry Thorin tonight, which will be in name only, and once Erebor is ready to welcome its rightful people again, you’ll have the grandest wedding beyond your wildest childhood dreams. Dis will make sure of it, my dear.”

She sighed, ducking her head for a moment. Tawny colored curls slid over her shoulder as she did this, revealing the engagement braid Thorin had put in her hair years ago when they had first become betrothed roughly ten years ago when she still had been in her tweens. Now she was of age at 33 and allowed to get married if she wished. 

“If you deem it best, Grandfather, then we’ll do it your way. I just hate having to do this so quickly.”

“At least you are not getting wed in your garden clothes,” Kili joked from somewhere down the hall, having gotten the duty of carrying in firewood to the kitchen. 

“I really need to find their Ones one of these days, and let them enjoy the horrors of being in the focus for everyone when it’s their royal wedding taking place,” Thorin said while rubbing a hand over his face.

“Knowing them, they’d really enjoy it. Or at least Fili would while Kili would try to escape,” she said before excusing herself so she could clean up and dress for that evening.

The company helped their hostess as the Took family prepared for a wedding. Thorin helped as well with moving tables, benches, and chairs outside, and he soon caught sight of other hobbits arriving. Fili quietly told him that these were members of the Brandybuck family, who held strong ties to Acacia and didn’t shun her because of her gift.

Adamanta, his bride’s grandmother, pulled him aside to perform a quick task. She showed him the ribbons that were usually used in hobbit weddings, asking him to choose the ones that felt right. At her instruction, he closed his eyes and drew out four ribbons that his fingers were guided to. The ones he choose were sky-blue, a soft shade of red, white, and green, and he had a feeling that it was some kind of omen for the future. Sky-blue normally symbolized the introduction of a new bride into the line of Durin; soft red could either stand for love or an important bloodline. White meant innocence, and green represented fertility. It could be a sign of a blessing from Mahal since he was taking Acacia as his bride, but he felt as if it held a deeper meaning too. Could there be a second royal wedding in his family soon? Maybe one of his sister-sons would finally find his One? 

The familiar voice of his betrothed drew him from his thoughts.

“So glad that Dis gave me this lovely dress as a coming-of-age gift last year. While I had planned to wear it in a different situation, I think she would agree on that it would fit for this ceremony too.”

“You look lovely as always, Acacia,” he said when he spotted his bride.

The dress in question was done in dwarvish style with a dark green bodice and over-skirt in rich brocade that held silver and gold embroidery. The underskirt was done in a cream color with a simple knot pattern that dwarrow favored. The dress suited her well and was one of Dis’ latest masterworks. 

He was dressed in a dark blue tunic, the nicest one he’d put in his pack, and he’d gone with a more intricate set of braids for his hair. Fili had ensured his boots were clean and ready for the ceremony and festivities; it was something he was grateful for since they’d gone through several muddy fields to reach the thain’s smial. Spring in the Shire tended to be fairly wet, which was good for crops but not so good for travelers.

“Thank you, Thorin,” she said with a smile. “You look very handsome.”

“Thank you,” he replied, offering his arm to her. “I take it they are ready for us?”

“Grandmother said so,” she answered. “She took the ribbons and gave them to Grandpapa.”

´”The ribbons mean something in hobbit ceremonies, right? I think I heard them mention something about them during a talk about weddings at your coming-of-age party.”

“That’s right,” Acacia responded. “They represent the joining of mind, heart, body, and soul. It’s a tradition we’ve had since our people were created; the stories say that the Stone Father gifted the Green Lady with four ribbons created of a special metal and stone that reflect the love they have for each other. That’s why we use four in our ceremony.”

Thorin nodded, appreciating the tradition since the dwarrow had one similar. The only difference was that, instead of ribbons, it was four different gemstones that a bridegroom was to present to his bride at a dwarven marriage ceremony. 

When he heard a voice calling for them to exit the smial, the king-in-exile escorted his bride out of her home and found the hobbits and his company were sitting in rows in front of where the thain was waiting. He walked with Acacia down the aisle that had been formed in a surprisingly short time of only a few hours, pausing when they reached her grandfather. 

“Beloved friends and family, we are assembled today to celebrate the union of Acacia and Thorin,” Gerontius began. “During our early days, the Green Lady bade us to join together in heart, soul, mind, and body so that we never have to walk the path of life alone. As She is happy and loved by the Stone Father so She determined that we too should find happiness and love. 

“Today, we honor not just Her instructions to us but also celebrate a joining that echoes Hers with the Stone Father for a daughter of Yavanna and a son of Mahal are joining their lives together to ensure peace, happiness, and prosperity not only for themselves but for their peoples”

He didn’t show his surprise, but Thorin realized that Gerontius was right in that he and Acacia were following the example of their makers. He drew in a slow breath, listening to the thain as he continued to speak.

“Thorin, as Acacia stands before you, will you take her as your wife, help-mate, and dearest friend to walk together on the path that Vairë has laid out?”

“I will honor her as the Maker honors the Green Lady as His wife and so I will take her as my wife, help-mate, and dearest friend,” he answered, watching the hobbit lass’s face. She was already blushing at his words. 

“Acacia, as Thorin stands before you, will you take him as your husband, help-mate, and dearest friend to walk together on the path that Vairë has laid out?”

“As the Green Lady stood before the Stone Father and accepted Him, so shall I accept Thorin, son of Thrain, as my husband, help-mate, and dearest friend. I also accept him as King under the Mountain and Lord of Durin’s Folk,” she replied clearly.

“The ribbons chosen by Thorin represent the wishes of his heart and that of his Maker for the marriage he and Acacia embark upon today,” Gerontius said, taking the first ribbon from his eldest son. 

Thorin, remembering the hobbit weddings he had seen, held his left hand out, and Acacia set her own left hand into his. His fingers closed over hers, meeting her eyes as the thain continued.

“White represents the innocence that is bequeathed unto you in these early days of marriage; may your love remain pure for each other and only grow deeper as the days grow longer,” the elderly hobbit stated, winding the silky ribbon around their clasped hands.

“Sky-blue for harmony in your marriage so that the skies of your life may ever be filled with joy and laughter,” he continued, adding the ribbon to the white one.

“The fiery red ribbon represents your love to each other and the desire to keep the other happy,” the hobbit said, winding that one as well. Then, the final one was brought forth to be added to the other ribbons. 

“And finally, green stands for the hope of being blessed with fauntlings and a long line of descendants to stand as testimony to the marriage you two share,” Gerontius said, working in the final ribbon. “Thorin, you may speak your vows to your bride.”

“Like the mountains protect the lands, I swear to protect you. Like the river flows to the sea, I will nourish you in life. Like a rock, I will shelter you from harm.” 

“My heart will be the fertile fields where friendship, love, and respect ever grow. I will honor you as the Green Lady honors the Father of Stone, and I will walk beside you as the days grow long and be the one you can turn to when you need someone who will see you for who you are beyond the title that is yours by birth and Valar given right,” Acacia said in a clear voice.

“The vows are witnessed, and may this joining be blessed by both Yavanna and Mahal. You may kiss your bride,” Gerontius said, eyes twinkling. 

Knowing that Acacia was slightly embarrassed due to having to kiss in front of people, Thorin gave her a light kiss on the cheek for now. The real wedding kiss could happen at the wedding ceremony in Erebor when his bead was in her hair and the tiara crafted for Erebor’s queen rested upon her head.

Acacia blushed, grateful there hadn’t been a spectacle made, and as her uncle removed the ribbons to create the circle of knots that would go in their home, she heard the cheers from her family and Thorin’s company as her grandfather announced them both as husband and wife.

The party that followed was loud and rambunctious as only a party of Tooks, Brandybucks, and dwarrow could make it. Even Gandalf contributed to the noise by setting off a few fireworks, promising his friend he’d have a bigger display when the marriage in Erebor took place.

Together, Thorin and Acacia wrote a letter to Dis, explaining what had happened today since they didn’t want Gerontius’s missive to be the only announcement. They assured her that this was only to ensure her reputation and safety, and that they were both looking forward to the ceremony the princess would plan for when Erebor was Thorin’s once more.

Once that was done and set in Gerontius’s study to be sent along with his own letter, the couple went to enjoy the meal the family had put together for the wedding. She proved her knowledge in what Thorin enjoyed eating by putting a plate together of things she knew he really liked, setting it in front of him at the table. He smiled while thanking her, making her smile in return.

As they ate with the company, Gandalf explained that he’d been informed that there had been sightings of a lone wanderer no one had seen for a very long time. He mentioned that if they happened to come across that person on the way to Imladris, then Elrond could perhaps help the wanderer as he had looked very starved and ill. 

“If he is who I hope he is, then it would be very important to bring him to Elrond. He could be someone very dear to the Lord of Imladris and would also need protection from the dangers of the road. An ill person is in great danger when traveling alone.” 

“While I agree that can be dangerous for anyone, if we find him, we’ll take him to the elves’ home since we need aid in reading the map. However, we will not go out of our way to find this wanderer,” he said flatly.

“But a good deed, even a such simple one as helping someone quickly to safely in about the same way you are going, can feel good for the heart and mind at least, Thorin.” 

“As I said, Tharkûn, if our path crosses this wanderer’s and he is indeed in need of aid, we’ll take him to Rivendell since our journey will take us there. As I said before, I cannot compromise this quest by going out of our way to find one wanderer,” he stated in a firm tone to the wizard.

The Istar nodded in understanding, not pushing it further. At least the conversation had gone somewhere, if not what he really had wished for but he could bear it. If Sauron got his hands on Maglor, the last surviving member of the House of Fëanor, who knew what kind of horrors that may be done to him. Sauron had deeply hated the House of Fëanor for their deeds in the First Age, and he strongly believed that Sauron had chosen Celebrimbor to help forge the Rings of Power in order to bring that House even deeper into ruin and dishonor. Killing the last survivor after all these years would likely feel like a true victory for the fallen Maia who once had been the most skilled follower of Mahal.

Instead of speaking his thoughts, Gandalf simply smoked his pipe and discussed the route of the journey with the king-in-exile. There was a lot to speak of, and the pair continued to do so as Acacia got up occasionally to provide more food or drink for them.

“I do not know why, but I have a strong feeling that something important is going to be found in Imladris, Gandalf, not just the secret of the map. Something from the past, an important key of some kind,” Acacia whispered to him as she passed by the wizard to refill Thorin’s tankard with some good ale she had gotten as a birthday gift from her now nephews-by-marriage.

“You may be right, my dear, but we shall see,” the Istar said, lighting his pipe once again as he contemplated the events that had taken place.

He suspected that this quest was part of the reason to why Hari had been brought back to Arda, to help free Middle-earth from the mistakes she once had made in her old life as Celebrimbor without knowing what his actions would cause. This quest was the start of making amends, and he suspected that she would be the linchpin of fate regarding the sons of Durin in the company.

The wizard was drawn from his thoughts when a group of fauntlings begged for a story so he happily obliged them, knowing he had time to focus on his worries whenever the party finally subsided.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Author’s End Note - Rogercat and I hope you all enjoyed this chapter; Fili and the company are now involved with the story in more depths, and we’ll be seeing more of them again. Please let us know what you think of the chapter, and thank you for reading! ~ Rogercat & Laran


	13. Arrivals

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Author’s Note - We want to thank everyone for being so patient with us. Rogercat and I both had personal losses in the family, and it’s been difficult for both of us. Thank you all so very much for your understanding and patience. We hope you enjoy this.
> 
> Disclaimer – We do not own “the Hobbit,” “The Silmarillion,” or “Harry Potter.” We do not make money from this story.

“Lovely. Really wonderful. Sometimes I really wonder why I am remaining here instead of sailing to Valinor,” the elf grumbled.

“Because you know that no one else can do the paperwork in the same manner as your do and the library would suffer because of it?” 

Hari had helped Erestor to clean the office after a small prank from the twins. It had been nothing harmful, just the classic prank of a bucket with water above the door when opening it and the papers being in the wrong order. 

“Must be that. Although sometimes I wish that they could marry some nice elf maidens and settle down with their own children so they will finally know what terrors they were themselves.” 

She gave a small laugh at that, shaking her head while continuing with her task. However, in the middle of sweeping the floor, Hari spied Lindir going to the front courtyard. Were travelers arriving? 

Curious now, she poked her head out of a window and a slow smile curved her lips when she spotted a company of dwarrow with what looked like a hobbit, wizard, and a cloaked form supported by the wizard. The group angled just right, and she recognized one of the dwarves in the group.

“Fili,” she whispered, heart racing as she eyed the blond.

Since the first dream she’d shared with him, he had grown in many ways. He was taller and bulkier than he had been, and she knew he was a keen warrior now that he was of age and had stepped into the role of his uncle’s heir. She was quick to notice that he had grown even more handsome than ever becoming a blond lion of a dwarf!

She had been a support for him, even after returning to Arda. He knew she was in the same world now, and the pair had promised to find each other whenever it was possible. Their bond had grown even more, and she’d finally told him of who she had been now that she had full confirmation. Fili had taken it well, easing her worries as he listened to her fears. He had spoken of this quest during the dreams, and she’d admitted to hoping that their paths would cross while he was on his way to Erebor. 

With shaking hands, she set the broom down and left the office, going into a covered pathway just as Elrond and his hunting party returned and began circling the group. Hari shook her head, loathing this practice of intimidating others; she had been working on the elves of Imladris to drop the ridiculous hatred between the two races, but it had been slow going.

As Elrond hurried over and carefully removed the hood from the tall person at Gandalf’s side, she saw who it was as well, despite the pale and starved face: Maglor, the last survivor of her old family. A mix of different feelings went through Hari’s heart as Celebrimbor’s memories flooded her mind for a moment. Recalling how she had disowned them because of that horrible Oath and the kinslaying, she tried to calm down. Perhaps one day she may find it in herself to forgive her family for their horrible deeds but not now. The pain was still too fresh in many ways even after all this time.

The company was escorted to a place to clean up, and Hari decided she would surprise Fili as she wanted to meet her dearest friend face to face finally. Her heart raced with excitement as she went back to her rooms, determined to dress up for this meeting. She quickly bathed and changed, donning a dress that matched her eyes. 

Despite the elvish features she had gained when her past memories had surfaced and merged with her own, Hari did not grow past five feet in height, which she knew was due to the bad nutrition and care she’d received as a child. Looking at it now, she knew it was because the extra height would be more of a hindrance here than a blessing.

Unaware of it, her magic started to act on its own and for a moment, she held a glamour of her past self over her body. There was no doubt who it was; anyone who had seen the old paintings of Celebrimbor and Narvi from Moria and Erebor would have recognized the elf shown in the glamour. 

The witch hurried from her room, hoping to find her friend and visit with him.

Fili had removed his pack and his outer clothing, sitting down on the bed to remove his boots so he could air his feet for a while before dinner, when he spotted something in the mirror in a corner. A tall figure showed up in the glass from the hall, and he could see it was a male elf with dark brown hair and blue eyes. 

“Celebrimbor?”

The image changed from a male elf into a shorter human female with black hair and green eyes. It was a person Fili knew better than he knew his own brother, and he rose to hurry to the door.

“Hari?”

She smiled, beaming at him, and he joyfully hugged her, picking her slender form off of the ground as he spun happily.

“I can’t believe it; you’re really here, my emerald-girl.”

“I am, my lion,” she said, looking happy as she was set on her feet. “I did say we were going to meet; I just didn’t expect to see you here.”

“Not exactly by uncle’s choice,” Fili admitted with a laugh. “I’m glad of it though.”

“As am I,” the witch answered, heart full of joy. “There’s so much to tell you.”

“I do not doubt it. Are your hands all right,” he asked, having worried about that particular injury she had suffered at the hands of the dark lord.

Seeing the heavy scarring of her hands in real life was a jolt to Fili’s heart, and he gently took her hands in his own as she answered.

“They ache in the cold or rain, but they still have their full mobility. Which is good because it would have bothered me to lose my ability to craft,” she admitted, letting him hold her hands.

“I am glad to hear that,” he said softly. “I know how much your craft means to you in this life and for you to lose it, I think my heart would break alongside yours.” 

She blushed slightly, not losing her smile. Of all the people who knew her secret, Fili had not expected anything of her outside of her friendship and she was glad for that.

“Before we leave for dinner, you need to know that we brought someone with us that might upset you,” he said to her.

“I saw him,” Hari said, sighing as she did so. “I hope Elrond and Gandalf won’t announce who I am. Glorfindel, I know, won’t but he understands why I don’t want any ties with those I share blood with. While he acknowledges the evil he has done, Elrond still sees Maglor as the father figure he loves and I know he might want to see some sort of reconciliation happen. As much as I loved my uncle, there are old scars in me because of the Oath and what my kin did to others.”

“This must be your choice, not his,” the dwarf answered softly. “I will support you, no matter what, Hari.”

“Thank you, my lion,” she told him, smiling gently at him as she rested her forehead against his.

She heard the chime to call for dinner and rose to her feet.

“Come, I’ll lead you to the dining room,” she said, waiting for him to put his boots back on. 

Once he was ready, he offered her his arm, which she took and guided him to the formal dining room where Lord Elrond often supped with his guests. As they entered, Thorin spied his heir with a small woman in tow and wondered at who she was.

The king-in-exile watched as Elrond gestured for her to sit with them at the lord’s table, but it seemed she had noticed the person they had brought to Rivendell with them. She murmured something to his eldest sister-son, and Fili shook his head slightly as he answered the lady quietly. He escorted her to the table, helping her into the seat beside Acacia and not where Elrond had indicated where she should sit, and then he took a seat beside her, across from his brother.

There was a slight pause in the conversation before Gandalf broke it, giving the girl a smile.

“My lord Elrond, this is Thorin’s heir, Fili, son of Dis,” he said. “Thorin, this is Lady Harriet Potter who is currently residing in Lord Elrond’s home. Hari, this is…”

The wizard was cut off by a sweet sounding voice, and the eldest dwarf hid his smile as she ignored the one Gandalf tried to introduce. If she could handle the meddling Istar like this, he could grow to like the lass.

“It’s an honor to meet you, Your Majesty,” she said to him.

“As it is to meet you,” he answered back in a civil tone.

Fili was fairly impressed his uncle was keeping his temper considering how many eves were around. He’d barely kept a civil demeanor around Maglor, which hadn’t been easy when Ori had remembered who the elf was and the crimes he’d committed. If there was one thing dwarrow held in common with elves, it was that kin-slaying was considered an abomination.

Gandalf hadn’t been too pleased with the less than warm manner in which any of the company had when dealing with their ‘guest,’ but Balin had informed the wizard that this was as polite as it was going to get considering the elf was a kin-slayer. For once, the Istar had no snappy rejoinder about that and had spent time talking to the elf while minimally interacting with the company.

After Hari had confirmed she was the reincarnation of Celebrimbor, she had explained the feelings she had towards the elves who share the same blood. Truthfully, Fili didn’t blame her for not wanting anything to do with them. The Silmarils had been a nasty business, ripping the family apart, and Celebrimbor had done the right thing in refusing to speak to or acknowledge anyone he had shared blood with.

The blond dwarf kept her attention on him or the other dwarrow, making her laugh with stories he hadn’t had a chance to share with her yet. He was very much aware of his uncle watching him and knew he would have to explain things soon, but he wanted to give Hari his news first. Once she accepted it, they could tell Thorin who Hari was. This was a good thing, a blessing for the line of Durin, and he knew his uncle would agree once the idea settled.

Once the meal was over, she escorted him to a part of the garden that had become her favorite spot over the years. Hardly anyone went to this part so when he’d realized that she enjoyed it, Elrond had lamps moved out there as well as a table and comfortable chairs so she could read in the evenings and had gifted her that portion of the garden. 

Hari eyed her friend after they settled in the chairs, feeling so happy that he was finally here. Judging from the look on his face, he felt the same but she also got the feeling there was something he needed to talk about so she gave him a nod to silently tell him he was free to open the discussions.

“I realized something a year or two ago,” he said to her. “I didn’t say anything because you’ve been dealing with so much since coming here, and I really wanted to tell you once we finally met outside of the dreams.”

“You can tell me anything, Fili. You know that,” she quietly replied.

“I know, Emerald-Girl. You and Kili are the two I can always talk to about what’s bothering me,” he affirmed. “This took some time to wrap my head around. I didn’t tell you that I was having dreams and strange memories appearing at random ; it started after we began dream sharing.”

“You’re a reincarnation of someone too,” she asked, eyes wide.

“I am,” Fili confirmed. “I wasn’t sure who I had been until the training accident where I got hit by Dwalin’s hammer.”

Hari remembered that.  \Kili had not been paying attention to the other people sparring and had nearly been hit when Dwalin had swung with the hammer. Fili had pushed his brother out of the way, getting hit in the process. He’d spent several days unconscious, and she’d been terrified because he’d not appeared in her dreams during that time.

“I remember it,” she murmured, watching him as he continued.

“The memories woke, and I was confused for the longest time before Oin figured it out. You know he’s a Reader and knows more about the mystic side of our culture than most people do. He took me under his wing and helped me organize my mind so I could keep the memories of the old life from confusing me. He also helped me tell my family, which had been terrifying, but they took it as a good omen once I was able to share things that only the current king would know,” he shared.

“Were you a king in a past life?”

“No, though I was a member of Durin’s Folk,” he answered. “It seems we were fated to meet, my dear friend. I was Narvi, son of Tarvi.”

Hari’s heart thumped hard in her chest at the news. She met his eyes, seeing something Celebrimbor had seen whenever he’d met the gaze of his dearest friend. 

“I see it,” she whispered, hands shaking as she reached out for his. “I recognize you now, my lion. My soul has missed you so much.”

“As mine has yours,” he whispered in return, taking her hands. “The Valar have finally brought us back together, and I mean to see to it that we are not parted until Mandos deems us ready to move on from Middle Earth. I will not lose my best friend again.”

She gave a tear-filled laugh at that, making him chuckle.

“You accepted this faster than uncle did,” he said, grinning.

“What did he do?”

“Made me share memories that were not in our histories,” he told her. “I found out that certain stories have been passed down from king to king, and what I shared was part of what had been told to him by his father.”

Hari laughed, freeing one hand to wipe her eyes. 

“Durin probably didn’t want stories of our pranks on him getting out,” she said, making him laugh.

“More than likely,” Fili replied, snickering. 

The pair spent the rest of the evening talking and when she retired to bed, Hari went to sleep with a happy smile, recognizing that her soul finally felt at peace for the first time. Her dearest friend in both lifetimes was here, and she was bound and determined to make sure she stayed with him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Author’s End Note – I hope you enjoyed this. Thank you for reading, and we shall see you next time. ~Laran and Rogercat


	14. Family

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Authors Note – We have a long chapter for everyone to enjoy! Thank you all for being so patient with us and for your kind reviews. It’s a pleasure to have such amazing readers!
> 
> Disclaimer – We do not own “Harry Potter,” “The Silmarillion,” or “The Hobbit.” We do not make money from this story.

After dinner and having a long talk with Elrond where his former foster-son had lamented the regret that he had not come to Imladris much earlier, Maglor remained in his chambers. The years had not been kind to him after the events in the First Age, and he knew in his heart that he was dying. He had tried to live on in memory of his lost nephew, but he had learned long ago that it was a lost case. His body was finally giving up, and the call from the Halls of Mandos grew stronger every day. If only he’d had a chance to tell Celebrimbor just how much he regretted the events that had caused him to push his dear nephew away.

Maglor had been overjoyed to find that his nephew had been reborn. However, the child wanted nothing to do with him and he told the son of his heart not to push her on it. Hari, as his blood was now called, would hopefully accept things in time. Elves were slow to change, and Celebrimbor had not had the benefit of time under Nienna’s care to heal the damage done to him by family and foe.

The elf looked out of the window, sending a silent prayer to the Valar for his nephew, now reborn as a mortal niece. He wanted her to find happiness and healing, which she greatly deserved. Of all the members of their line, she was the one who would redeem the honor of their house because her light shone bright and strong. Maglor knew she would do what was right for those around her rather than herself, and he hoped that her kind heart would be repaid with love.

“I pray that her new life will not be haunted by the Oath or Sauron. It was difficult enough back in the First and Second Age for Celebrimbor so it would gladden my heart if she were to be spared from it,” he whispered in the ancient tongue of his people. 

Maglor looked down on his hands, staring at the heavy burn scars left on his palms and fingers by the Silmaril. He was tired, so horribly tired, but he would not give up until Mandos called him to his halls. There was a conversation that needed to be had, and he would not add to his blood’s burdens by dying before that conversation could be held.

He sighed, heading to his bed. His rest had not been easy over the millennia, and he hoped that the tranquil atmosphere of Imladris would aid in at least a few hours of good sleep.

As the troubled elf rested, Thorin Oakenshield stared out into the darkness with his company chattering behind him. He was uneasy about having to remain in the home of the elves, and his eldest sister-son’s familiarity with the girl concerned him.

“Thorin?”

The soft voice drew him out of this thoughts, and he found Acacia standing beside him. She looked worried, and he knew he was the reason for her concern.

“I’ll be all right, Acacia,” he assured her. “There are a lot of thoughts weighing heavily on my mind, and it is difficult to sort them out.”

“Sometimes having a listening ear can help, even if the listener has no advice to give,” the hobbit assured her husband. 

He smiled, walking her down the walkway for a few moments to where the bench was. This way they were near where the company had set up their camp but far enough for privacy to talk.

“Truth is, I’m unnerved being here,” he began after they sat down. “I have no love of elves; we were not given aid at any time from any of the elvish kingdoms. Your people have done more for us since we moved to the Blue Mountains than anyone else has, including Dain. The idea of having to stay here and later show Elrond the map irritates me to no end.”

“Think of it this way,” Acacia suggested. “We helped an elf where none of their kind helped your people, proving that dwarrow are the better ones for laying aside the feud to aid one in need. As for the map, as impolite as it is, just think of it as using a resource and not asking for a favor.”

“I will try,” Thorin said, knowing she spoke sense. “It will not be easy since I have disliked elves after Thranduil’s betrayal.”

“Eru will punish him for that one,” she commented. “He set rules down for His firstborn, and the idiot broke them. That won’t be taken well at all.”

“Here’s hoping it’s in my lifetime,” he said, knowing it was wrong to want that but was too full of anger towards the elf to really care about it.

“It will happen when Eru wills it,” the hobbit told him. “What else is preying on your mind?”

“The girl Fili was chatting with during dinner,” the king-in-exile replied. “While Fili is friendly, he isn’t one to be so at ease with people at first meeting. Tonight, he spent most of the meal talking to her. The way they interacted was as if they’d met before, and he’s never spoken of forming a friendship with a human lass during their trips with me or their mother.”

“Now that, I don’t have an answer to but see if you can pull him aside tomorrow and gently question him on it,” she suggested. “She seems like a nice girl, and I’ll try to chat her up tomorrow to get a feel for what she’s like. That should help put your mind at ease.”

Thorin gave her a smile, pleased she had a suggestion and knew she would do her best to ensure that his sister-son was not placing himself at risk with this strange girl.

The next day, Acacia went to find the girl that was worrying Thorin a great deal. Much to her surprise, after a friendly suggestion by Lindir, the young human was found in one of the forges, working on something. There was skill in her hands, but it was a level of skill that spoke of a level of mastery that could not have been taught given how young she was. 

Acacia watched her work, finding the skills the girl showed to be fascinating. She’d watched Thorin work in the forge during her visits to Ered Luin, but she’d not watched anyone craft jewelry before. The hobbit remained quiet, not wanting to disturb her as she worked.

Finishing up, Hari held up the item in one hand to check that the details she’d added were right. It was an eight-rayed star in silver, likely meant to be a necklace of some kind.

“That is lovely,” the hobbit told the other.

“Thank you, miss. It’s a gift for a friend,” she told her, eyeing the young lady in front of her.

“I beg your pardon; I certainly didn’t mean to be so rude,” Acacia said, blushing. “I’m Acacia Baggins.”

“Harriet Potter,” the witch said, giving her a gentle smile. “It’s nice to meet you, Miss Baggins.”

“Acacia, please,” she said to the other.

“Hari then,” the dark haired one acknowledged. “What brings you down here?”

“Two reasons,” the hobbit answered, being honest with the other female. “First, it’s rare to see Fili opening up to someone he doesn’t know and two, I’m dying for a bit of conversation with a female. I’ve been traveling with the company for weeks and while they’re sweet, they really don’t understand that a girl needs another female around or she’ll end up breaking something over their heads before long.”

Hari laughed at that, understanding where the hobbit was coming from. As she worked to put her tools away, she answered the other.

“I can appreciate that,” she said with a grin. “There are days when I want to use a hammer over my friends’ heads because they simply can’t understand something I’m saying that another girl would.”

Acacia nodded, relieved another understood. She felt relaxed around the human, which didn’t happen often around those bigger than her, and the pair chatted for a while as Hari got her workshop shut down for the day since she was done with her project. 

They talked about quite a few topics, agreeing on some things and debating others. Most of the time, they broke down into laughter when the debates turned silly. By the time they were ready to part company for the moment, both felt they had made a new friend.

“About your concerns regarding Fili, he and I will explain things to his family soon as we both know they are probably worrying since this is out of character for him,” Hari said when they’d sobered after the last bout of giggles. “He loves his family a great deal and hates it when they are concerned about him.”

“He’s a good lad,” Acacia agreed. “Family is important to him and to me as well.”

“Even if they do things that are wrong,” the witch asked, needing advice but not wanting to go into detail.

“Even then,” the hobbit said, voice quiet as she shared something she didn’t often speak of. “My father’s family abandoned me after my parents died when I was five. If it hadn’t been for my mother’s family, I would have been homeless and most likely dead before I turned six.”

“I thought hobbits were very keen on family,” she asked, taken aback by her new friend’s words. She had learned about the smallest race on Arda after coming here; she hadn’t met them during her life as Celebrimbor, and she’d heard of them when a shipment of food had arrived not a few weeks into her new life here in Imladris.

The small lass sighed, shivering as she felt something cross into the workshop. She could see the images of several people, elves, staring at the human with longing and sorrow on their faces. 

“I have a gift that hasn’t been seen in the Shire since our ancestors settled there,” she shared. “I am what’s called a spirit-seer.”

“You can see the spirits of those who have died but not moved on,” Hari asked, questioning once more when the hobbit nodded. “Can you interact with them or do anything in regards to the spirits you see?”

“I can talk to them, help them move on, and I can banish evil spirits. I’m still learning because what I am has been seen only a few times in dwarven history. I’m not sure about the elves or men; I’m not too keen ask Lord Elrond in case my ability is something his people would find repulsive.”

“I’ve heard of it but rare where I come from. I think some considered it a dark power, but we can’t label powers we’re born with as light or dark,” Hari said. “Truthfully, a lot of people would give a great deal to be able to speak to the dead. It takes a compassionate heart with a lot of strength to be able to do what you can. I don’t envy you this ability given how heavy the burden must be on you.”

“Thank you,” she said softly, feeling a part of the weight she carried lighten somewhat. “The company, those who know of it, say the same but it’s hard because of the words and actions of people I have known as family all my life. They hated what I am.”

“You shouldn’t let their actions continue to hurt you,” Hari told her. “Don’t give them the power to do so.”

“I try not to,” she said. “I’ve tried to forgive them, but it isn’t easy.”

“Why,” she asked the hobbit. “They’ve hurt you, obviously in a very bad way, and their actions are against kin. That’s one of the worst things you can do.”

“Because not forgiving leaves marks on your own soul,” Acacia said, sharing thoughts that she had shared with the older members of her dwarrow family in hopes of helping them move beyond their anger. “They may not be worth forgiving, but I am not going to hurt myself carrying this much anger around. Life is too short, and I want to be able to embrace happiness without regret.”

The pair parted a short time later, promising to meet after dinner, and Hari thoughtfully polished the pendent as she mused over her new friend’s words. She could acknowledge that she had a lot of anger and pain towards what her family had done in both lives. The witch had let go of her resentment towards the Dursleys but didn’t know how to do that with her past family.

Forgiveness would be a long time coming, she knew that, but maybe it was time to speak to those she could and see if, perhaps, if the few surviving members of her old House repented of their selfish and harmful ways. Hari tucked Fili’s present into a small cloth bag, putting the bag into a pocket before going to seek out the one family member she had here in Imladris.

Maglor opened one eye at hearing the door opening. It was not Elrond or his children; the tread was much too light. The ancient elf was absolutely stunned when he saw who it was that had entered his chambers.

“Eru does indeed act in strange ways, nephew. I would never have thought to see you reborn as a mortal or as a female. Then again, I never thought you would willingly seek out my company. I can only hope that the changes have been a blessing to hide you from evil?”

Hari did not answer at first; instead she walked over to the bed where he lay and sat down at the chair there. They both looked at each other, grey eyes meeting green. 

“I should really have told you this after that Maedhros killed himself and I threw the last Silmaril into the sea, but you did the right thing in disowning us as your family. Even if people still saw you as cursed for being my brother’s son, your hands remained free of blood from the Second and Third Kinslayings.”

“You knew the Silmarils were not meant for anyone to have,” she began, speaking slowly to help keep her thoughts and anger under control. “You swore an oath you had no reason to swear or any right to take over gems that should have been turned over to the Valar for protection. The House my past self was born into has been soaked with blood until it reached the point where any sort of honor was gone. Why, Maglor? Make me understand why sparkling gems were more important than family, peace, and honor.”

Maglor signed deeply, refusing to look away in shame. 

“Where to start? The Darkening of Valinor and the murder of my grandfather, Finwë, at Morgoth’s hands as well as his act of stealing the Simarils unsettled everything. It was chaos; chaos no one ever expected to happen in peaceful Valinor. My father, Fëanor, was caught in his own grief of losing his father and in the web of lies that Morgoth had whispered in his ears. Father had a talent for words but listened to the wrong voice.”

“Fëanor should never have created them,” she said flatly. “The Trees were not meant for us to touch or alter, only the Valar had that right. We were not meant to go against them, yet he denied them the cursed gems to rebuild that which was destroyed. As elves, we crave the light - be it stars, sun, moon, or the Trees - and he denied everyone access to the light that comforted all by hoarding those wretched things to himself. He cursed all of us, not just his sons, but everyone of his bloodline. You knew it was wrong and showed so little compassion to those of us who wanted to stay away from the horrible actions of our house; yet you took in others and gave them the love and compassion you denied your own blood.”

Hari drew in a deep breath, trying to calm her anger.

“You and my sire did nothing to stop the anger from falling on me when I refused to take the Oath or participate in reclaiming the cursed items. Coward and traitor you called me,” she said, voice tight. 

Maglor had the humility to look down at his hands in shame while answering the young woman.

“That was an act of prideful fools who failed to see the truth in time before it was far too late and not having the wisdom of not following the Oath anymore. If you had been close to me and Maedhros for a longer time, people may have seen it as a sign of that you secretly had sworn the Oath too and we could not bare to see your good name tarnished. So we pushed you away in order to protect you; we had no desire to see you lose the joy in crafting nor the friendships you had formed.”

“Your wish to protect innocents from being harmed by your deeds and reputation didn’t stop you from taking in Elrond and his brother, did it? What of their good names,” she snapped, rising to pace. “All I ever received from my house, my family, was scorn and ridicule because I would not tarnish what was left of my honor to go after those damned Silmarils. Had I gotten my hands on them, I would have gladly destroyed them for all the pain they had caused!”

She went quiet for a moment, then revealed something she had told only to Fili when she’d confirmed who she had been in the past. 

“Do you know why I had been chosen to learn how to craft the Rings of Power?”

When Maglor shook his head, she continued, staring down at her scarred hands.

“It was revealed to me during my imprisonment and torture by Sauron,” she said, voice flat. “He wanted to corrupt the only remnant of honor still left in the House of Finwë, the one person who had created both of the Elessar and had a heart that wished for peace and prosperity for all. He wanted to use the skills which I inherited from my legendary grandfather in order to have his revenge against our house; he wanted to try to corrupt me, which meant having me learn to create the means of enslaving two honorable races. The fact that the rings I crafted for those elves I trusted was something he had difficulties in trying to corrupt infuriated him even more because my heart had been too pure when I forged Nenya, Vilya, and Narya.”

Her voice trailed off for a moment, and Maglor, distraught by the news, could only wait for her to continue so she could try to speak of what had happened to her during her past life.

“I gifted one ring to a friend, not knowing I had put him in danger,” she shared. “I am only fortunate the dwarrow are as stubborn as the stone their Maker crafted them from because they did not fall as the men did. I do know the rings affected the great dwarrow kings, and I feel the grief and blame for the trials those rings have brought to the descendants of my friends and the men who had no idea what it was they were given.”

The elf could sense the depths of her pain and guilt, and he closed his eyes in sorrow. Sauron would have never gone after Celebrimbor had their line not caused him to lust after jewels their father had created. Once again, their greed and pride had caused harm to someone who had not harmed another. All his nephew had wanted was to craft in peace and enjoy his time with his friends, and Celebrimbor had been denied that based on who his ancestors were.

“I had no idea, and for that, on behalf of those already long gone in our family, I can only beg for your forgiveness, nephew...niece. It may be too late to change the past, but for the sake of the future,” Maglor said softly.

“You can only apologize for yourself,” she told him softly, swallowing against the lump in her throat. “Those who are gone will have to face the consequences of their actions on their own as I will not see them again for some time. However, you are here and it is up to you to prove to me that you sincerely feel regret for the deeds you have done against others.

“Answer me this, Maglor,” Hari continued. “If the Silmarils were placed in front of you, what would you do? Would you cling to an oath that brought nothing but suffering to innocent people or would you forsake the so-called honor that comes with fulfilling those vows and try to reclaim them for our house?”

This was the big question that would determine Hari’s interactions with Maglor. If he answered correctly, she would agree to work on getting to know him and allow herself to give him a chance to earn her forgiveness. If he clung to the path that brought so much pain and suffering to so many, including her past self, then she would hold to her determination to have nothing to do with those of her former bloodline.

“No, I do not ever want to be close to a Silmaril anymore, either in this life or a new one if I ever get a chance of rebirth. I know better than my younger self who swore the oath back in Valinor. I know the suffering it would cause, and what price would have to be paid if I tried to get them back. The path cost me everything I once held dear, including you, nephew of mine,” he told her. “You chose your materials carefully so as not to bring about any form obsession since you knew that it would easily happen if you allowed it.”

“Silver and mithril were some of my favorite materials to work with,” she admitted. “Narvi used to joke I was part Durin because those are two of the materials they favor. No matter, if you are genuine on this, then I will let you prove it to me. I have something to accomplish, which will necessitate my leaving Imladris for a time, but if your heart is true on abandoning the path you set on with your father and brothers, then I will allow you a chance to prove it and earn forgiveness from me. We have not spent time together in centuries, and we do not know each other anymore as we once did as uncle and nephew back in Valinor.”

For the first time, the ancient elf’s heart lightened at the possibility of earning forgiveness from the one member of the family who had remained pure of the taint that had darkened and destroyed the honor of their house. The idea of earning that forgiveness sent a surge of strength and a true desire to live through him.

“I will earn it, no matter how long it takes,” Maglor promised.

“Good,” she said, looking a little more at ease. “I’ll leave you to rest; I’ve another conversation to have, and it will be as difficult as this one was. Rest now, Maglor, and we shall see each other later when you’ve rested properly.”

“Thank you for giving me this chance,” he said, then tilted his head. “How do you prefer to be addressed in this life?”

“I will acknowledge anyone who calls me by my past name, but I prefer to go by Hari in this life,” she answered on her way to the door. 

Hari left Maglor to his rest, heading towards the area where the dwarrow were housed during their stay in Imladris. The conversation that needed to be had with Fili’s uncle would not be easy, but she had confidence that she could convince him of who she was and that she meant no harm. Even now, she was still more comfortable around dwarrow than any other race, including elves. 

She found the dwarrow and smothered her urge to laugh; the group had set up camp in the large hallway that the bedrooms opened into. In truth, knowing how things had deteriorated between the elves and the line of Durin after her death, she wasn’t surprised they had chosen to stay together instead of using the bedrooms assigned to them.

“Hello the camp, permission to enter,” she called out, smiling when Fili spotted her first.

“Permission granted,” he answered with a smile, getting up to greet her. “I wasn’t expecting to see you for a while.”

“I had a talk with Maglor and thought that I would go ahead and have that chat with your uncle,” Hari told him. 

Fili watched her for a moment before nodding, guiding her to where his uncle sat with Acacia and some of their cousins.

“Uncle, may we speak in private?”

Thorin looked up, eyeing his sister-son for a moment before nodding and getting up. He looked at his wife for a few seconds, helping her up when Fili invited her for the conversation.

The four of them went into Acacia’s bedroom, the only one in use since the hobbit refused to camp on a hard floor when a bed was available. Truthfully, Hari couldn’t blame her though she had to wonder why only her new friend’s pack was in here and not her husband’s. She’d have to question Fili later.

“I met Acacia earlier today, and I know you have questions about how Fili seems to know me,” Hari started after they all took their seats. “I have a bit of a story to tell you, if you’ll allow it?”

After Thorin nodded, the witch began to tell her story of her life back in England, speaking of the dreams she’d had as a child and how she’d had them all of her life. She spoke of her schooling, the difficulties she’d had there, and eventually how the dreams became flashbacks that haunted her during the day. Hari hid nothing, sharing about the first meeting with the Valar, though she’d not known who they were at the time, and then spoke of the dream sharing with Fili. She went on about her eventual capture and the memories finally coming into place. The witch shared about what she’d gone through and how she’d finally fulfilled her destiny in England, waking up in Arda and her training here.

Once done, Thorin eyed the dark haired young lady in front of him, processing everything that she’d told him. When Fili had told him about the memories he had gotten that were not his own and that he’d been Narvi in a former life, the king-in-exile had hoped that Celebrimbor would eventually join him since he knew the two were Ones.

“I want to believe you, but I need proof. I need a story or something that proves this, and I believe the exact details of how Celebrimbor and Narvi met for the first time would suffice since they never revealed it when Narvi turned up with an elf who was limping,” he said quietly.

A light blush covered her cheeks as she thought for a moment before sharing one memory that should not have made it into dwarrow history books.

“During the planning phase of the doors, Narvi and I got involved in a drinking contest,” she said, laughing when she heard Fili groan at the memory she was sharing. “We tied, beating our competition, and thought it was a good idea to work on the plans. We kept drinking while drawing out plans and eventually passed out. We woke to find Durin in the workroom, looking over the various plans, and I thought for sure we were in serious trouble. The plans that were chosen were on the table, but there were at least seven others. One had jokes about whether or not the height of elves was to compensate for the lack of height in their trousers; another was full of raunchy jokes. Those were the two that were least offensive.

“We staggered to our feet, ready to make a run for it, and Durin just turned to us with that smirk on his face and said that as much as he enjoyed the new plans, we were going to stick with the original idea. He took the other plans with him, and a day later, the rather filthy drinking songs we’d written lyrics to were being sung quite loudly in our favorite tavern.” 

That had only been the start of their pranks together. In their free time, they would sometimes play harmless pranks on others, often having fun on Durin’s behalf when he was chosen for the pranks since he always managed to relax enough to plot revenge against us.

“As for how we first met, I had gone out hunting orcs on my own, once more being haunted by the past deeds of my birth family. In an act of rare carelessness, I failed to see the unsafe drop behind my horse when I had to back up to avoid running into a large group of them. The poor thing died in the sudden fall to the ground below. I managed to survive but broke my leg. My sword had fallen out of reach, and my few remaining arrows would not have protected me either. Just as I believed my life to be ended because of my own recklessness, a young dwarven warrior showed up and killed the orcs I had not managed to kill. As he could not move me too far away because of the height difference and the pain from my broken leg, he ended up dragging me to a safer spot between the cliffs and cared for me as my leg healed. As I regained my strength, we spoke of different things and found that we shared an interest in the same crafts.

“I think it helped that I had no quarrel with the dwarrow, even after the issues with the Silmaril and the dwarrow clans in the Blue Mountains. As far as I saw it then and still see it, there is a meaning behind the dwarrow’s creation, even if it was by the Maker and not by Eru the All-father. Without them, the dark lord would have won the great wars even faster and enslaved the Free Peoples of Middle-Earth. Narvi was rather surprised by my thoughts on it,” she said.

“Without a doubt,” Fili said, shaking his head. “Especially when I found out who your family was, which I didn’t hold against you when you told me of your promise to stay away from the paths they had chosen and find your own way. You wanted to bring back the old honor and glory of the House of Fëanor before everything had become so awful for your family members, which you admitted to not be easy but wanted to try.” 

Thorin was pinching the bridge of his nose, his eyes shut for a moment as he was thinking. 

“Clearly your rebirth, even in a body like this, must be a sign of that the dwarrow of Durin’s Folk are heading towards a new Golden Age. Hopefully, it will be started in Erebor by reclaiming it.”

Hari’s eyes took on a distant expression for a moment.

“I want to believe that as well and will fight for that to happen, but there are shadows still yet to be faced.” 

They all nodded. The rumors about strange events starting to happen in Mordor and the growing numbers of orcs around were not dismissed by Durin’s Folk. No matter what others said, they had a strong suspicion that Sauron was not fully defeated and that he may come back to threaten the peace between the Free People once more.

“There is something I would like to ask,” Hari said to Thorin. “I would like to accompany you on this quest and lend what aid I can. I am a decent archer, fairly good with a sword, and being a witch might work in the company’s favor. I’ve a feeling I need to be with you on this.”

Fili had mixed feelings on this, wanting her with him so they could continue working on their friendship as well as wanting to keep her safe. The images of Celebrimbor’s body on a pole, desecrated, haunted him. He had suffered from nightmares of knowing he was gone and not being able to find him. He said nothing though, knowing this was Thorin’s decision and not his.

“If your return to Middle-earth is a sign that a darker threat is about to be unleashed once more, then it will be better to have you with us so that we can protect each other as we face what is coming,” the king-in-exile stated. “Since you were taken from us from your elvish home, it’s best you remain with us so we can ensure you’re protected because if Sauron is not gone, he will be looking for you as soon as he realizes you have returned.”

“As much as I trust my old friends to protect me against Sauron, he never managed to break into the dwarven strongholds during my lifetime. That is where I am truly safe, where his powers would never reach me. He may be a former Maia of your Maker, but not even he has managed to destroy the dwarven race. From what I faintly remember of Aulë from Valinor, He would not be too pleased with Sauron if that ever happened.”

Knowing the powers of a forge, the dwarrow shuddered at the mental image of their Maker while enraged if His favorite elf should be in a such a dire situation once more. 

“When we are successful in removing the worm from our home, Erebor is open to you to make your home for as long as you wish,” Thorin told her. “You are a dwarf-friend, and that will never change.”

Hari bowed her head, softly repeating the words once spoken by Celebrimbor to Durin III.

“From the West I came, yet here in the East of the World is where I belong. Not above ground but below. My heart is one of yours, even if it is born in the body of an elf, the Firstborn. I promise to stay true to the dwarrow, the Stone-children of the Maker and Smith Vala, for now and forever.” 

“The Stone-Children of the Maker welcome you, child of Mahal’s heart for that is what you are,” Thorin replied, giving the response Durin had given Celebrimbor when the conversation had taken place. “Born in Eru’s light you may be but stone is forever in your heart and soul, making you one of our Maker’s children and for that, you will forever find shelter beneath the stone.”

Hari rested a hand over her heart as she bowed her head, tears filling her eyes as Thorin’s next words soothed one of the sources of pain she had carried since she could remember. 

“Welcome home, heart-brother, now heart-sister,” the heir of Durin said. “We have missed you.”

Finally, after all those years, Hari knew a feeling she had missed even in her old life as Celebrimbor; it was that of being welcomed for and viewed as who she was as a person, not for the family her past self had once belonged to. She had found her missing family, and her heart was full of joy at the knowledge that she was no longer alone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Authors’ End Note – Rogercat and I hope you enjoyed this chapter. Please let us know what you thought of it! For those who are fans of the actors, Richard and Graham, and enjoy anime, check out the new Castlevania. I just discovered that both were part of the voice acting team for it! Anyway, we will see you all next time! ~Rogercat & Laran


	15. Walks and Fireside Chats

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Authors’ Notes – We apologize for the delay in posting. Rogercat has been remarkably patient with me while I deal with IRL issues and health problems. Add to that, my area just finished with Hurricane Harvey. Fortunately, my apartment is safe and sound, no damages. I just wish I could say the same for my storage unit. My area of Texas got hit with over 40 inches of rainfall; areas that have never flooded became overrun with water this time. I know other areas had more so please keep them in your thoughts!
> 
> There is mention of an original character; we decided to use her since we do not want the developing relationships with Thorin and Acacia as well as Fili and Hari to come under more criticism due to succession. This is just a plot device to help things move forward without my overactive brain screaming at me regarding political issues. I brought this up to Rogercat, who understood my concerns and so this character was born. 
> 
> Warning – When :: is used, this means a flashback from the past is being used. 
> 
> Disclaimer – We do not own “Harry Potter” or “the Hobbit,” and we do not make money from this story.

Dinner that evening had been interesting to say the least. Hari had stayed with the company until time came to join the others at the evening meal, and she’d been pleased to see that one of the pranks the kitchens were known to pull on dwarrow had not been done. Catching a glimpse of Glorfindel, she realized who had made sure it hadn’t been done and was grateful. Her attitude about dwarrow was not quite accepted by some, and Glorfindel had encouraged others to try and remember that the dwarrow who had been enthralled by the Silmaril were dead and gone. 

Both of them had reminded Elrond and his family of the fact, though Arwen had been easier to convince. The twins were a bit more of a challenge, which reminded her of something important. She leaned back in her seat, catching the ancient elf’s eyes and spoke in Quenya.

“Please tell me someone is keeping an eye on the terrible duo,” Hari asked him, making him laugh.

“They were warned to be on their best behavior while the dwarrow are here,” the Balrog Slayer assured her. “They know you will not tolerate pranks on them and will retaliate if they do. I let them know I would help you this time.”

“Good,” she replied, grinning at him. “Thank you for reminding them.”

He just smiled, and the meal continued. Hari knew she’d have to warn the company so they wouldn’t be caught off guard since she knew the twins would eventually try to pull something despite the warnings Glorfindel had given them. Her retribution would be harsh and fearsome; she was the daughter and goddaughter of a marauder, after all, and her past self had been incredibly mischievous when given the right circumstances. Add the blond elf to the mix, and the twins would be in serious trouble until the lesson had been learned.

When the meal was over, she and Fili went for a walk and they toured one of the gardens in silence for a while.

“Is something on your mind, Hari?”

“A great many things but before I forget, I have something for you,” she said, fishing the small bag out of her pocket. “I missed a lot of your birthdays over the years since we started dream-sharing, and I also wanted to show that your friendship means so much to me.”

Hari handed him the small cloth bag, waiting anxiously for him to open it. Fili’s eyes widened in surprise, and he carefully pulled the necklace out. The silver caught the light of the moon, shining brightly as he examined the gift.

“This is beautiful,” he breathed out, lightly touching the pendent. His keen eyes caught the mark on the back, and he smiled when he recognized it. She had kept the maker’s mark that had been used during Celebrimbor’s time.

“You like it?”

“Yes, it is wonderfully made, and it feels like it could have come straight from our old lives, my friend. I remember the silver jewelry and trinkets you used to make at times; they were always a thing of beauty,” he said, making her blush.

“I remember silver being the preferred metal for those of the line of Durin,” she said, willing her cheeks to stop being so pink.

“Aye, gold is too heavy at times and a lot of us try not to keep too much of it around after Thror’s descent into gold madness,” he said, fastening the pendant around his neck.

Hari nodded, remembering the conversations they had shared about the gold issue. She had a feeling it was due to the ring that had been given to Durin because that line had not had a problem with gold lust before then. A part of her guilty over it, and Fili was quick to spot the expression as it flashed through her eyes.

“It was not your fault,” he told her, voice stern and for a moment, he sounded like Narvi had done whenever the dwarf had become exasperated with his elvish friend. “You had no idea the rings were going to be used against the dwarf lords; you thought it was a good gift, and I know you. Had you known, you would have destroyed them immediately with your own hands despite the pain of ruining an outstanding work you had finished.”

The part of her which remained Celebrimbor, seemed to lose a heavy weight from her shoulders at those words. How important Narvi’s words seemed to be to her even after all those years apart.

“You haven’t lost the ability to read me or to say just what I need to hear,” she said to her dearest friend. 

“Someone has to keep your head from floating off with the clouds since you sometimes dreamed yourself away, silver-hand,” he teased. “You either get lost or turn all stormy on me, and I’ve never been a fan of rain.”

Hari could not help but laugh at that familiar comment. Fili smirked as well.

“That’s something I’ve not heard in a long time,” she stated. “My head being in the clouds all the time.”

“Elves are naturally predisposed to having all sorts of flights of fancy and daydreaming,” he said teasingly. “I thought it was just you, but you’re just the silly one who acted like you had eaten too many sweets when you were excited over something. Though, considering your habit of eating sweets all the time, it could have been the sugar instead of you being silly. Of course, that was because our dams thought you to be too skinny and kept giving you sweets.”

“It’s strange, I don’t have a sweet tooth anymore and not a fan of sour things either,” the witch admitted. 

“Good luck escaping Acacia’s notice, Hari. Hobbits are big eaters, and I really mean it. She’ll take up where the dams of Khazad-dûm left off in trying to get you a bit heavier.”

Almost on cue, said hobbit lass was seen in the distance with something that looked a lot like one of the famed fruit pies of Imladris in one hand and a pot of tea in the other.

“As long as it’s not sour or overly sweet, I don’t mind so much,” she answered. “Elrond has been trying to put more weight on me; I’ve been here seven years and still am not where he wants me in regards to weight.”

Fili took a discreet look at her. She looked far more healthy than she had during her years at Hogwarts, but he could see the point of her being not at the right weight. 

“Don’t let Bombur or Acacia hear that, or they will try and have you try a hobbit’s feeding schedule.” 

“Oh Eru no! I’ll pop in a day,” she said, eyes wide. 

He nodded in agreement, grinning at her. Then he bowed and offered to accompany her to a part of the library where they could be alone and have fun in the memories of their past lives. She smiled and accepted the invitation, taking his arm as she did so.

They chatted until late in the evening and after walking her to her quarters, Fili went to where the company was camped. He spotted his uncle staring into the fire while Balin read and Ori knitted. The others were asleep, and he suspected Acacia was in her room sleeping as well.

“You’ve been gone a while,” Thorin observed.

“We got distracted by talking,” Fili answered, sitting down beside his uncle. “It’s easy to lose track of time that way.”

“I imagine you must be relieved to know she’s here,” the king-in-exile said. “Narvi did not take Celebrimbor’s abduction and death well at all so this must make it easier on you.”

“Knowing Hari is here, safe, and that her spirit has time to heal from what that damned beast did to her is a genuine relief to me,” he shared with his uncle. “The loss of Celebrimbor broke Narvi in a way that I am glad I only have echoes of feeling in this life because he lost his own life not long after while fighting to bring Celebrimbor home. And it did hurt even more knowing that Sauron was a former maia of our Maker himself. Losing his One in that manner was something I hope never to experience in this life or any others again.”

“It was incredibly traumatic for your past self,” Thorin murmured, hazarding a look at his nephew. “Do you still feel the pull towards her as your One?”

“Yes, she is my One, just like Celebrimbor was Narvi’s One in our past. I will not lose my One like that again, uncle. I would rather kill her myself than allow Sauron get his foul hands on Celebrimbor a second time. I cannot let Hari go through that again, and I won’t.”

“That will not happen,” he assured him. “The dwarrow of Durin’s Folk will protect our heart-sister, Fili. In the meantime, what are your plans regarding her? Do you mean to court her?”

“If she so wishes, yes. I only hope that she isn’t as blind to the signs of attempted courtship than what Celebrimbor was.”

There was a small wave of laughter at those words. Narvi had been written several complaints in private letters to Durin and his family members about how hopeless Celebrimbor was, failing to realize that Narvi actually had tried to court him. 

::I take back some of my words about how brilliant Celebrimbor is: He is as blind as a mole to the signs of that I wish to court him! Durin, how can someone so intelligent be so stupid in regards to something like this?::

“If she’s still clueless, we’ll have Acacia talk to her,” Thorin offered. “In the meantime, we have to wait here in Rivendell for a few weeks until the map can be read. I will ask permission to be granted the use of a forge so we can make the dwarf-friend bead for Hari, similar to the one Celebrimbor is shown with in the drawings of him in our history books. You can craft your Gift of Intent while I work on the bead.”

“Thank you, uncle.”

“You are welcome,” he answered. “Have you given thought as to what you want to make for her? Also, you will need to be careful about chaperones. Given your rank as my heir, you need to make sure the proprieties are observed. The last thing we want is for the courtship to be called into question.”

Fili nodded. Even with Hari being the reincarnation of Celebrimbor, there were still some very traditional-minded dwarrow who would question why the famous elf had been reborn as a mortal human and a female no less. While the female gender was highly respected among his people, her shorter life-span would likely be seen as a bad omen for some. The idea of losing her so early hurt, but he would not miss a moment of her life. That meant observing all of the proprieties that went along with the traditional courtship.

“At least there won’t be questions about succession once Kili is wed,” he sighed, rubbing a hand over his face. 

Thorin nodded, smiling at the mention of Kili’s One. The pair were still courting, and they would be betrothed once Erebor was theirs once more. While they were gone from Ered Luin, Dis would be teaching her what she needed to know to fulfill the duties that came with being Kili’s wife and consort. It was training Acacia had undergone during each of her visits to the Blue Mountains after they had become betrothed; he knew Hari would most likely need it too since her duties would be much different than what she had taken care of during her time as Celebrimbor. He made a mental note to speak to his betrothed about the possibility of her starting to teach Hari what she would need to know as Fili’s consort.

“You need to find a way to inform your mother of all of this without openly admitting who Hari was in the past,” the king-in-exile told his sister-son. “I know she won’t announce it until we’re safe in the mountain, but she’ll murder us both if she’s the last to know that you found your One.”

“Agreed,” the blond answered with a shudder at the mention of his mother’s wrath. “I’ll write her tomorrow once we’re done at the forge.”

“I asked Lord Elrond about training fields, and we have permission to make use of them so the company will be training during the day,” Thorin informed him. “It might not hurt to ask Hari to train with us so she can integrate herself with the fighting styles of the group.”

“I’ll ask her during breakfast,” Fili promised. They did not doubt that Hari had learned to fight, but she needed to adjust to the ways his people fought.

“Good,” he answered. “I don’t deny her talents will be of use, but I will find it comforting to have her with us so we can keep her protected. The dwarrow of Durin’s Folk will not lose their dear friend again if I can prevent it.”

His sister-son gave him a smile, then shook his head slightly.

“She may or may not approve of that; Hari will ensure to extend her protection to the company as well. It’s who she is.”

“And Skadi will be overjoyed to have the reincarnation of Celebrimbor around if we all survive,” Kili commented with a smirk after joining them. His betrothed loved to collect different kinds of gemstones and often tried to match the jewelry styles of the Second Age. Her attempts, while lovely, were not quite where she wanted them to be. 

“Hari is not here to feed your One’s obsession with older-fashioned jewelry,” he teased his brother. Although they did agree on the rather hilarious mental image of how Skadi was very likely to react once she did find out who Hari was. She was a smart working class dwarrowdam, not a silly airhead like some of the daughters of the nobles tended to be. 

“I’ll have to warn Hari about Skadi and her obsession,” Fili continued. “Although, make sure she understands that Hari will no longer work on rings, even non-magical ones.”

“Understandable,” Thorin commented. “After what happened in her past, I don’t know that I’d want to do that either.”

They all agreed on that, and the king-in-exile looked to his eldest sister-son when a question occurred to him.

“Fili, I know you’ve been talking to her for a while. Is she still wounded from her past? If so, how can we help her?”

Given how incredibly special Celebrimbor was to the dwarrow of Durin’s Folk, it would not be a surprise to those who knew of their history to realize just how much the dwarrow would do to help their friend. Most people thought dwarrow were greedy, selfish people, but they honored their bonds to friends and family with a deep love that was as eternal as the stone they were created from.

The betrayal of Celebrimbor’s trust by Sauron was something unforgivable in their eyes. Anyone who did a deeper search in his history would know that such a deed was partly why he had disowned his family as they had gone too far in the name of the Oath. Sauron, who had claimed to be an honest friend in his shape as Annatar, had only deepened that wound. 

“She has nightmares at times,” Fili answered, looking thoughtful. “It was only a recent thing that her memories finally came forward, and that happened before she came to Arda. I know Lord Elrond and Lord Glorfindel have helped her, but time is what is needed or so she has told me. I think the best thing we can do is listen when she needs to talk, sit quietly when she does not, and remind her that she has friends here. You remember how I was when my memories finally woke?”

Thorin and Kili could recall that night very well. It was on the anniversary of Celebrimbor’s death, and Fili had complained about a headache that only seemed to grow worse over the day. Finally, Dis had sent him to bed so he could try to rest and he had managed an hour before he’d woken up screaming in horror as the memories had come forward. It had taken time to sort through those memories and work through the pain that the traumatic ones had brought. Narvi’s memories of Celebrimbor’s abduction and his determination to retrieve his One’s body so it could be put to rest properly still haunted him at times.

Yet it was also a determination Fili had admired, proving just how much Celebrimbor actually had meant to Narvi as a friend and as his One. In truth, the blond hoped he’d have the chance to show it to Hari this time since they didn’t get the chance last time. And hopefully she wouldn’t be as blind to the attempts of courtship than what poor Celebrimbor had been.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Authors’ End Notes – We are so glad you read this and hope to hear your thoughts on everything. Take care and see everyone next chapter! ~ Rogercat and Laran


	16. Letters Home

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Authors’ Note – We have been amazed by the wonderful comments from everyone. You guys have really inspired us, and we are thankful for that. I hope you continue to enjoy things so far. Now, a word of warning for this particular chapter. We included an original character in order to allow certain romances to happen. For those familiar with my own works, you will know that I do this occasionally to keep the pesky plot holes from showing up. Rogercat and I discussed it, and she did the lion’s share of designing this particular character. I hope you like her as much as we do!
> 
> Disclaimer – We do not own “Harry Potter” nor “the Hobbit.” We do not make money from this story.

Dis stared down at the sealed envelope for a long moment before using one of her knives to slice through her brother’s seal. She had not been expecting a letter from him, and she hoped this meant good things and not bringing ill news.

~To Dis Axedancer,  
Daughter of Thrain, Son of Thror  
Princess Under the Mountain

Dearest Sister,

I know you are probably stunned are receiving a missive from me, but I wanted to let you know that we have stopped in Rivendell in order to resupply as well as have an item translated that Tharkun was given. Apparently, he crossed paths with our father, receiving a key and map that were to be given to me, but the wizard had not recognized who he was due to how poor Father’s condition was. He took Father to a fellow wizard, who nursed him until he passed. 

To know Father is gone, after all those long years of searching for him, is a painful thing but I take comfort in the knowledge that Radagast the Brown ensured his final months were as painless and comfortable as possible. I am also grateful that Tharkun brought him away from the darkness, though I wish I had known so we could have been there to ease his passing.

Now to some more joyful news, sister: do you recall the conversation we had with Fili regarding his connection with a well known and loved figure in our history? His counterpart has been found, and she is joining us when we finally leave Rivendell. She is determined to ensure we have a home, and I could not refuse her considering her past ties to our people in her first life.~

Dis had to stop reading, the shock from her brother’s news making her head spin. Surely Celebrimbor’s rebirth was a sign that Erebor would be reclaimed by the Line of Durin, and it meant a lot of good things were coming since this was a joyful occasion for their people. The news would have to be kept quiet for now; she had recognized her brother’s unspoken command in how he had phrased the news in the missive. There was still dark powers out there who would want to harm Celebrimbor once more if it came out that he was reborn. 

The dwarrowdam calmed her thoughts and resumed reading the missive, eager to discover if her brother had included more news. 

~Fili, of course, is overjoyed and has spoken to me of courting her if she allows. As close as they are to each other, I do not believe she will refuse him but it is rather well known just how blind she can be to those who hold more than friendship in their hearts for her. From what he has told me, dear sister, I believe she may be blinder than our Kili was when he met his One. I never thought I’d say that, considering how long it took him to realize the truth, but it is true. Regardless, I have given my blessing for him to start the courtship rituals when he is ready and the company, knowing of their past, have all volunteered to chaperone when needed. If all goes well, you will have three weddings to plan when we return to our home.~

Three weddings to plan! Oh, surely that had to be yet another good omen! A royal wedding was a huge affair, and three weddings so close together was said to bring luck to their people because of how rare it was to have weddings for the dwarrow. Dwarrowdams being only one-third of their race meant that not everyone had the chance to wed in this manner.

Dis beamed, eager to start the preliminary planning, but forced herself to continue reading.

~I am ensuring all traditions are being observed between myself and Acacia and will do the same once Fili starts courting his One. I will not have any doubts as to the validity of their bond once the time comes to announce their betrothal. This means too much to our young lion, and I will fight to ensure his happiness.

In other news, you will be delighted to know that things are going well here. The company has behaved themselves so far, knowing we must rely on the hospitality of our hosts while we wait for the correct phase of the moon to read the map I have been given. It has not been easy to let go of the hatred, but Acacia has been helpful as she always is in ensuring that I have time to get away for a while to let go of my anger before I am called back in. She will make an excellent queen, though I know she is nervous about that task. Lord Elrond is, at least, easier to talk with than Thranduil. 

I will write more when I can, dearest sister, but I wanted to share the news with you so that you can be happy as well. There have been no injuries, and Acacia, Balin, Dwalin, and I have been able to lessen the pranks your sons have tried to indulge in. Did you know there’s an elvish version of Fili and Kili here, who happens to be the sons of our host? I didn’t until our arrival, and we are endeavoring to keep them separated in the hopes of lessening any chances of Rivendell being turned into a warzone of pranks and tricks. I have help in the form of Lord Elrond as well, but I have a feeling that our efforts will come to no avail as it seems Fili’s One has a gift for pranking as well. Fortunately for my sanity and Lord Elrond’s, her gift for pranks is one she uses only when she or someone else she is watching over becomes a target, and she is kind enough to clean up any mess she may create once the fun is over.

Be safe, dearest sister, and know that you are in my thoughts and heart. May Mahal watch over and protect you while we are apart.

Your loving brother,  
Thorin II Oakenshield,  
Son of Thrain, Son of Thror  
King-in-Exile.~

The dwarrowdam leaned back in her seat, smiling widely as she did so. Her brother had done the right thing in sending her the news, and she was so very pleased with what he had to share with her.

Dis had worried for Fili once Kili had begun courting his One, knowing that her eldest had not found his special someone, and that worry had grown exponentially when he’d revealed that he was the reincarnation of Narvi. She had hoped that Celebrimbor would be reborn, but there had been no sign of him in all this time. Now she knew her son’s heart would no longer ache, and she sighed in happiness that her three idiots, as she called the males closest to her, would now have someone to watch over them. 

Celebrimbor’s blindness to the love held for him was troubling and if Fili could not get the lass who is his reincarnation to see how much he loved her, the princess would have to step in and help. Her son would not thank her for it, but her boys meant too much to her to allow any of them to hurt. As a widow, she knew the pain of losing the other half of herself and thus could understand some of Narvi’s grief better than Fili himself at the moment. 

Her fingers drummed against the old wooden table for a moment as she considered her brother’s letter. A part of her wanted to write back but knew that the missive might not reach him in time before the company continued on their journey to Erebor. So far, Thorin seemed to be handling this well and she knew part of it could be attributed to Acacia’s influence as well as Balin’s.

Dis stared at the letter once more, another happy smile curving her lips. Well, she may not be able to write back but she could certainly get started with the wedding plans! Granted, she couldn’t order anything until Erebor was theirs and the craftsmen were ready to work but she could at least have the preliminary plans in place for the brides to look over. 

She was already planning the relocation of the dwarrow of Durin’s Folk from Ered Luin to Erebor, and she didn’t mind taking on extra work since this would be a happy occasion for her family. Her boys would be loved and happy, and she’d have an extra set of hands helping her in the arduous task of keeping Thorin in line.

Dis was pulled away from her thoughts when her youngest son’s One came into the house, basket over her arm. She’d sent her out to pick up a few things, and Skadi had been happy to do so.

“Welcome back,” she told her future daughter-in-law with a smile. 

Skadi was a bit on the taller side for a dwarf but well formed judging by the dwarven standards of beauty in regards to her feminine curves. She was blessed with lovely hair in the colour of fire that complimented her darker skin and striking sky blue eyes. The young dwarrowdam was considered an exotic beauty in many ways so it was no wonder Kili had given his heart so quickly and completely. He’d fallen hard for her both literally and figuratively considering he had run straight into Skadi from behind due to his lack of attention due to trying to escape an enraged Dwalin, who he had pranked. 

“Thank you,” she said. “Everything all right?”

“Everything is just fine,” Dis answered. “I received a letter from Thorin.”

Skadi smiled a bright smile at those words, happy to know that her future uncle had managed to send word to them. 

“Really? Is everything all right with the company? No one injured? I hope Kili hasn’t gotten himself into trouble again.” 

“Not that Thorin has reported,” the elder dwarrowdam answered. “They had to stop in Rivendell for supplies and to get a map translated.”

Skadi relaxed a bit, happy to hear that everything seemed to be all right. She took a seat by Dis, setting the basket on the table in front of her.

“There is something of note that he was sure to mention though,” she told her future daughter-in-law.

“Oh? Something unusual?” Skadi asked, starting to braid her hair into a bun as she spoke. 

“Do you remember the announcement Fili made to the family some time ago,” Dis asked, not wanting to really speak of this aloud.

“The one where he spoke of a past in his dreams,” she asked.

“Exactly so,” the other answered. “It seems that his missing counterpart has been found. She’ll be joining them once they are ready to leave Rivendell.”

“Oh that’s wonderful news! I had been worrying that I may be the only princess by marriage to the Line of Durin in this generation, seeing that Miss Acacia is marrying the king and will have a higher rank.”

“Provided Fili can actually court her,” Dis laughed. 

Skadi, who had heard a lot of courting mishap-stories of the legendary Narvi from childhood, understood the unspoken meaning and giggled.

“I will keep it a secret, I promise, but it will be so fun to meet my fellow future princess!” 

Skadi used the title given to dwarrowdams that married a royal heir, seeing that not every prince of Durin’s Line ended up ruling their people as king.

“I’m sure she and Acacia will need your company since we know the males of the Line of Durin tend to do foolish things,” the elder commented with a laugh. Dis was happy for the news; it brought some nice things to think about while she led Durin’s Folk during the time her family was away on this quest to reclaim Erebor. 

“More than likely,” Skadi said with a grin. “I know there have been times Acacia has tried to go after Fili, Kili, and Thorin with a frying pan.”

Dis snickered at that memory. Occasionally, during the hobbit’s visits to Ered Luin, the trio would do something to agitate the lass. There had been one time where the three males had rigged flour to fall on top of her, making a mess of her and the kitchen, and she had grabbed a frying pan, chasing them through several streets while threatening them in both Khuzdul and her birth language. It was a good sign because it was so rare for Thorin to indulge in pranks, and it meant he felt relaxed around his betrothed. Acacia was liked by most dwarrow, and everyone thought that she would be a good queen even if the famed hobbit fertility would not work in her marriage to Thorin. 

Truthfully, Dis had a feeling that Acacia would be adding to the Line of Durin, even if her children would not be succeeding Thorin or Fili to the throne due to their half-dwarf status. Truth was, she knew that bringing Acacia into the family meant better fertility in a generation or more. She didn’t really care about them being half-hobbit; she wanted tiny little chubby nieces and nephews to spoil along with grandchildren! Children were rare enough as it was, thanks to dwarrowdams being so rarely born and not all of them chose to marry.

Thankfully, Skadi was only three years older than Kili so she was young enough to have a chance to more than one child, if the Maker and His wife blessed them. 

Dis was pulled from her thoughts when the younger dwarrowdam rose to her feet and picked up the basket she’d come into the house with.

“Where are you going, Skadi?”

“I’m going to start cooking. I thought we celebrate the news with something delicious for supper tonight,” she said with a grin.

Dis smiled back, getting up to join her. Skadi was right; this news was something to celebrate, and she was grateful they had made it this far and that her eldest had found his One. In her heart, she continued to pray for their safety and well being, knowing they still had a very long way to go.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Author’s End Notes – We hope you enjoyed this as well as approve of our original character. Now there will be a pure blooded dwarf to succeed Fili, keeping the people of the Longbeard clan from arguing about allowing half-bloods onto the throne. Thank you for reading; please let us know what you thought of the chapter. See everyone next time! ~ Rogercat & Laran


	17. Discussions of the Past

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Author’s Note – We are so glad everyone has been enjoying the story so far; I wish everyone a safe and happy Thanksgiving. Please enjoy this update!
> 
> Disclaimer – We do not own “the Hobbit,” “Harry Potter,” or “the Silmarillion.” We do not make money from this story either.

Acacia hummed to herself as she picked some flowers. Given the time they would have to wait to get the map read, she was determined to enjoy their stay here. It had taken some creative bullying, but she’d gotten the company to promise to be on their best behavior. As she picked the beautiful blossoms, she thought on the problem presented to her about Fili and Hari. 

Apparently, Hari’s past self had not recognized that Narvi had attempted to court him and the company, especially Thorin and Fili, were worried that it would happen again in this lifetime. She’d gotten to be very fond of her future nephews and wanted to see Fili happy as well as settled down with his soulmate. This meant, since Dis wasn’t here to interfere, she would have to do something.

The hobbit heard another voice humming and looked up to spy the young woman she had just been thinking about.

“Good morning, Hari,” she greeted.

“Good morning, Acacia,” the witch called back, joining her new friend. “What are you doing?”

“Picking flowers to make a crown with,” she answered. “It’s a great way to relax while enjoying the morning sunshine. And you? You seem to be in a good mood this morning.”

“I had a nice talk with my past-life uncle earlier; we have slowly started to close the distance the Kinslayings and Silmarils caused between us.” 

Hari and Maglor were trying to take things slowly since the past could not be healed in a heartbeat. They also had to remember that Maglor was very weak nowadays because of his Fading and would not have much energy to do much after a long talk. Elrond had mentioned to her that he felt the Fading might be halted now that Hari was attempting to allow her uncle to make amends and start a relationship between them again. Even if Maglor passed away one day in the unseen future, he would at least have fewer regrets to carry with him when entering the Halls of Mandos. 

“That’s good,” Acacia told her. “Life is too short to let things keep family apart if it’s possible to prevent it.”

“And losing your whole family could be considered enough punishment as it is.”

“You are not responsible for their actions,” she said, tilting her head for a moment, blue eyes focusing on something standing behind Hari. “The punishment should have fallen on them and not you; they regret it so very much.”

“We did not know what the Oath would cost us when they swore it. That is all I will say about it,” the witch told the hobbit lass.

“You know you are not alone here,” Acacia asked her. “There are spirits with you, and they are full of regret.”

“My father and other uncles, no doubt. Possibly the couple who were my birth-parents in this second life. They were killed by a madman little over a year after my rebirth.” 

The hobbit shook her head, eyes skimming over that which only she could see.

“No humans, only elves,” she told the other, describing them to her.

Hari closed her eyes as the descriptions drew forth images in her mind of the family she’d once had in her former life. 

“I know them,” she answered quietly. “My father, his brothers, and my grandfather from how you describe them. People I refused to acknowledge once I understood what their obsession led them to.”

“Greed has ruined a great many lives,” Acacia agreed, flowers in her lap as she listened to the witch. “It’s never easy to accept that those you love have done something wrong.”

Hari nodded without a word; even in this new life, she could recall the horror and terror Celebrimbor had seen all in the name of two jewels that should never have existed. It had haunted him, and Narvi had been one of the few who had even been willing to listen without judging him. He had not tolerated the facade the elf had worn as a noble and later, lord of the settlement they lived in, and he’d encouraged the somewhat eccentric, too focused, and rather absent minded personality that had been his true self. 

“I walked away from them when I was old enough to understand,” she eventually said. “It wasn’t easy trying to shake off the reputation Fëanor’s House had gained over the years, especially since I adored working with my hands. I had to work hard to prove that I wasn’t the same as the other members of my family. I didn’t find acceptance until I stayed for a time in Gondolin as well as in Ost-in-Edhil.” 

“That’s where you met Narvi, right?”

“Oh yes, we traded and worked with the dwarrow of Khazad-dûm often,” Hari answered.

Acacia started weaving the flowers together as she asked her next question.

“How did you two meet?”

“I believe I spotted Narvi in a distance a few times with his family in the markets of Ost-in-Edhil; they were all either warriors or stone workers, but our...how to say it, proper first meeting happened when I was out hunting orcs by myself and ended up badly hurt with a broken leg. I would have been killed that time if not for Narvi showed up to save my skin from the orcs. “

She could still faintly recall Narvi’s scolding about the foolish decision to hunt orcs alone, but she remembered that his hands had been gentle as he’d splinted her leg. They’d been stuck outside for a while until she’d been strong enough to be moved, going to Khazad-dûm for further treatment.

“We stayed in a cave until the leg was stable enough where I could somewhat lean on him; that was when I gained my first experience with dwarrow healers,” she said, grinning and shuddering at the same time.

“I had a run in with Oin when I was younger; it was during my first trip to Ered Luin to get to know Thorin’s family. Dis was showing me one of the mines; it was a safe one, but something happened and I got hit when the earth started quaking. Oin had me in bed for days; I was bored and ready to smack him over the head with a skillet if I’d had one handy,” Acacia shared. “I can only imagine what a group of them would have been like.”

“I was flat on my back for several weeks, bored silly,” Hari laughed. “The head healer threatened to cut my ears off if I didn’t stop trying to escape and literally tied me to the bed to prevent it. It’s a habit I still have.”

“I think it’s a trait a lot of people have,” the hobbit giggled. “Thorin, Fili, and Kili are much the same way. All three of them have this idea that bed rest for healing is not required for them. It took me, Skadi, and Dis threatening them with weapons and frying pans to keep them down when they got hurt during a hunt.”

“Skadi, that’s Kili’s One, right,” Hari asked. “I remember Fili mentioning her; he holds a lot of respect and affection for her.”

“She’s a spirited one, which is necessary for dealing with the idiots of the royal line,” the other lass answered with a grin. 

They laughed for a moment, sharing their amusement before going into another discussion in hopes of learning more about each other. Hari had been rather surprised to learn that Acacia was a hobbit, seeing that she had never heard about them as a race back in her life as Celebrimbor, but that could be excused due to the fact that she had been killed before word of the race had reached where she had lived as well as the knowledge that hobbits preferred to keep themselves hidden to live in peace. 

At the same time the two girls were chatting, Elrond was pacing in his study, feeling more than a bit worried. He had that kind of feeling that normally foreshadowed an unexpected visit from Saruman soon, and he was one of the many people they tried to keep Hari hidden from. In the past before Hari had arrived, there had been some worrying hints to that Saruman had researched more than necessary about Celebrimbor and his skills. As a Maia of Aulë, it was perhaps expected but recalling that Sauron once had been Mairon, another one of the Maiar in the Smith Vala’s service, it was bound to cause trouble. 

“I am not going to let Celebrimbor get dragged into the claws of a Maia again, not with the behavior Saruman can show at times….” 

Glorfindel, who had been reading in a chair near where Elrond had been pacing, looked up at his friend when he’d heard the muttered words and watched him for several long moments.

“You seem to be fixated on the White Wizard more often of late, Elrond,” the ancient elf began, setting the book on his lap so he could give the other his full attention. “What is it that troubles you?”

“Something that Celeborn pointed out during my last visit to the Golden Wood,” he answered, still pacing. “He made an observation about Saruman’s habit of dismissing reports that could be important, making light of them while denigrating the messengers who brought the news forward to our attention. His words have been lingering in my thoughts for some time now.”

The blond elf nodded, knowing that his friend and Celeborn had good reasons to be concerned. Saruman had been making light of topics that should have been handled with more gravity, and Glorfindel had been none too pleased with how Mithrandir’s report about the Green Wood had been treated a year or so ago. Yes, it was Thranduil’s realm but given the forest’s proximity to very dark areas, it was something the White Council had every reason to be concerned about. Saruman had lectured the Gray Wizard about something completely off topic, and Glorfindel had been hard pressed not to make a scene about it.

“Mithrandir has another report,” the older elf commented. “I fear another lecture on the respectability of the Istari will be forthcoming since our friend seems remarkably unsettled and concerned.”

“It will be even worse when he realizes just why Thorin Oakenshield is here,” Elrond said, rubbing his temples with a tired expression on his face. 

Glorfindel marked his spot in the book, placing it on the side table so he could lean forward.

“He’s said nothing of his plans so far,” the golden haired one stated. 

“He doesn’t have to,” the Lord of Imladris answered. “I know he came here to have something translated, and I keenly aware that the occupied status of his kingdom weighs heavily on him.”

“What will you do,” Glorfindel asked him. 

“A large part of me wants the dragon to remain undisturbed,” Elrond replied. “However, I have had dreams since Oakenshield and his company arrived. Smaug must be dealt with because he will not remain asleep forever.”

“With the darkness spreading over the Green Wood, it is only a matter of time before it spreads into the mountain and reaches the worm,” the Balrog Slayer observed, watching the other as he nodded.

“Indeed,” he answered, sinking into a chair. “So I must come up with a decision about what to do, and this only adds to my concerns because I know Saruman will be arriving eventually.”

“We can put Saruman off,” Glorfindel suggested. “Resupply Oakenshield and offer what advice you can. Since you don’t want Hari to cross paths with the wizard, I would suggest sending her with the company if she hasn’t thought of doing it herself. This way she is kept safe and away from someone we hold in suspicion.”

“It is good advice, my friend, but I fear sending them off without some form of assistance. I will speak with Oakenshield, Mithrandir, and Hari about this, but I have a sneaking suspicion that our friend and his dwarven companions have no idea what to do about the dragon in Erebor.”

“Quite possible,” Glorfindel answered, looking distracted for a moment as he contemplated the issues at hand. “Fortunately, we have time to discuss this as the document that needs translating won’t be ready for several weeks, you said, so we can try to set up a meeting or two in order to aid them.”

“And hope our patience holds out,” Elrond sighed. “Hari will cheerfully cause chaos if she thinks we are not treating the dwarves correctly, and I have no desire to be in her sights once again.”

The blond laughed at that. 

“True enough, my friend, true enough.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Authors’ End Notes – We hope you all enjoyed this installment; for those celebrating Thanksgiving, please be cautious while traveling and enjoy the time with your loved ones. Please let us know what you thought of this chapter. Take care, and see you all next time! ~ Laran and Rogercat


	18. Passing Time

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Author’s Note – Firstly, Rogercat and I want to thank everyone for their kind words in regards to the story so far. We appreciate all of you a great deal! Secondly, while I am not looking forward to the upcoming holiday, we both wish all of you a happy holiday (using that phrase since people do not always celebrate Christmas) and remind you guys to be safe while traveling! 
> 
> Disclaimer – We do not own “Harry Potter,” “the Hobbit,” or the “Silmarillion.” Neither of us earns money for this story.

Hari was both amused and frustrated as she watched her new friends practice on the training fields. It was good to see that this generation of the line of Durin was focused on their skills in regards to combat, but she had to wonder just what was going through their minds when they’d allowed Ori to sign up for this quest. He was not a warrior, that much was abundantly clear. A closer look at Dori and his mother hen-behavior suggested that he had insisted on bringing the youngest Ri brother along just so he could keep an eye on him. She knew she would have to find a way to determine why the younger dwarf had been allowed to come and see if there was a chance to help the scribe learn to defend himself properly.

“Hari, feel up to some melee sparring,” Fili asked, pulling her away from her quiet contemplation.

She nodded, rising from her seat beneath a tree. Kili, Acacia, and she had done some training on the archery range earlier, and the witch hadn’t done too badly considering she was still getting her body to perform skills that hadn’t been used in a long time. Add to the point she was smaller and her center of gravity was different due to being in a female body, it had taken time to train herself to fight. In truth, it had been more difficult to do than she had remembered during her time as Celebrimbor.

“Don’t be too rough on me,” she teased, drawing her blade. “Remember, my practical experience for this kind of thing is only about seven years or so. The limited time at Hogwarts does not count here in terms of being able to fight with weapons.”

“I won’t be too aggressive with you.” 

Hari may be not be that strong in terms of body strength, but she was very good at ducking and avoiding weapons being wielded against her. A lot of it she attributed to her time avoiding her cousin and his gang of thugs whenever they had decided to go “freak hunting,” and her friend had also given her instructions in the dreamscape.

“Whoa!” 

Due to their time together in the dream world, Fili had half expected Hari to use the environment to give herself an advantage in training and she did just that. She used magic on her weapons to land heavier blows. The witch also tried to use her speed against his strength, using every advantage she could against her opponent.

Used to sparring with her in the dreamscape as well as his agile brother, Fili had quickly adjusted and was able to partially anticipate her moves. Swords clashed together, filling the air as they fought against each other. He feinted with the right hand while the sword in the left came up and over, making Hari scramble to block his attack.

Unbeknownst to them, they were being watched by Thorin, Dwalin, and Balin. 

“They are having fun together, which is good to see. It will be rather amusing if we discover that she is as clueless as Celebrimbor when it comes to recognizing signs of a dwarven courtship,” Thorin smiled honestly.

He had greatly enjoyed Kili trying to woo Skadi and while his betrothal and marriage to Acacia was due to political necessity, he still took delight in watching his nephews try their best with their own ladies. 

Balin chuckled, nodding as he smoked his pipe.

“Aye that it will,” he said. “Hopefully, she won’t be clueless as Celebrimbor was but just enough to provide a challenge for him. They do work well together.”

“They do,” Dwalin agreed, observing the pair. “It’s important for them to have that teamwork. Lass looks like she’ll hold her own if she comes with us.”

“I’m pleased to see it,” Thorin agreed, lighting his own pipe. “Fili wouldn’t be happy leaving her behind, and I would feel better knowing she’s where we can protect her even if the road before us is uncertain.”

The two with him agreed, and they continued to watch the couple as they sparred together. All three were hoping she would be agreeable to accompanying them because they wanted to keep her safe.

One day, close to the arrival of the full moon, Elrond summoned Hari to his office while she had been helping Estel train with a wooden sword. He had told her that, seeing that it was the King of Durin’s Folk and his followers taking refuge in his halls, he felt confident enough to actually allow her to go with them on their journey. After all, she had spent the past seven years in Imladris and she had shown signs of the classical restlessness people tended to get if they were not allowed to leave the valley soon. 

“As much as I would like to come along, I know that I am too little for it,” Estel admitted with a bit of jealousy when they left Elrond’s office. 

“Do not worry, Estel, I am sure that you will find some nice adventures here in the valley to keep you busy until you are an adult. You are a big boy, but ten year old younglings are not the right age for hunting orcs. You would not want your ada angry again like he was when you ended up falling into the river,” Hari responded with a friendly pat on his head. 

“I know,” he pouted. “I want to go on a quest too, and I heard Elladan say they may be going to fight a dragon!”

“You’ll have your own quests in time,” she promised, resting a hand on his shoulder. “If I can, I’ll help you on them.”

The little boy nodded, fingers worrying the hem of his tunic.

“Do you think the dwarves will let you go?”

“I’m going to talk to Thorin and ask again to make certain he’s sure about letting me go with them. He said I could some time ago, but he might have changed his mind,” she said. “In the meantime, you have history lessons about the First Age with Erestor. Better get going.”

He gave her a quick hug, then scurried down the hall to head to the library to get to his lessons. Once alone, Hari headed to the area where the dwarrow had been housed. She hoped Thorin would still be open to allowing her to go with them. Elrond had mentioned a growing feeling that Saruman soon would visit, and it would not be good if he found out who who she had been in her past life.

The witch found the dwarf in question looking over some maps that he’d brought with him from Ered Luin. He was alone for the moment, which she was grateful for.

“Thorin, do you have a few moments?”

He looked up, giving a small smile as he nodded and gestured for her to take a seat at the table with him. She did as instructed, ignoring the maps for the moment.

“How can I help you?”

“I know I asked this after our talk about who I had been in the past, but I wanted to make sure that you haven’t changed your mind,” Hari said to him. “I would very much like to join your quest; while I have not heard any of your company, including Fili, speak of it, I know it’s important for the survival of your people and want to lend whatever skills I have to help you. Am I still welcome to join you?”

Thorin was quiet for a moment; he wanted her to come simply so that she could be protected. That she had volunteered once again was a relief to him since it meant he didn’t have to find a way to convince her to accompany them. Her sincerity in helping his people warmed his heart a great deal; in truth, she reminded him of Acacia in her genuine wish to help others.

“This will not be a safe journey,” he warned, wanting her to understand what was at stake here. “There is a dragon at the end of it.”

“Oddly enough, this won’t be my first dragon,” she admitted. “Truthfully, Elrond wants me out of Rivendell fairly soon. Saruman is supposed to arrive due to some information Mithrandir has for the White Council.”

“His presence might be a danger to you,” the king-in-exile acknowledged. “Once the map is read, we plan on leaving. I shall have Balin present a contract for you to sign.”

“I’ll prepare my things so we can leave quickly when the time is right,” Hari said. “Thank you, Thorin.”

“You are a friend to my line, Hari, and your presence will be more than welcome,” he replied.

She smiled and for a moment, Thorin could see the shadow of Celebrimbor in that smile too. Even if Hari did not resemble Celebrimbor, there were still some movements and behavior that she shared with her past incarnation. The king also had seen the same in his sister-son, echoing mannerisms of an age long gone, and he had learned to simply look past it.

Thorin acknowledged that her magic could be useful on the journey, and Acacia would be happy to have a fellow female as well. After all, even if they were legally married, there were always issues that were best shared between those of the same gender at times. The two would be a good support for each other during this journey.

“Thank you, my friend,” the witch said. “I shall go pack and then talk to Fili. Where should I meet Master Balin?”

Thorin thought on it for a few moments, trying to determine where would be a good place. 

“Have Fili bring you to my quarters in two hours,” he answered. “The contract should be ready by then.”

She smiled at him, then hurried to go pack. The witch made her way to her bedroom, closing the door securely behind her as she went through the mental list she had made during the short walk to her chambers.

Hari pulled down a sturdy pack, putting changes of clothes into it and remembering to include clothing for colder weather since they were heading towards an area that was further north. She also packed fletching supplies, feminine necessities, healing herbs and bandages for things her magic couldn’t handle, grooming implements, and a few things to keep her hands busy during the evenings.

Once done, she set her pack aside after tying a warm bedroll to the leather container. She knew she’d have to finish the packing right before they left because what was left to pack happened to things she used every day.

Feeling satisfied that she hadn’t forgotten anything, Hari went to find Fili.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Author’s End Note – Thank you so much for reading! Please let us know what you thought of the story, and remember to be safe if you are out of your home for any reason during this holiday season. See you all next chapter! ~ Laran & Rogercat


	19. Past and Present Families

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Authors’ Note – Rogercat and I greatly appreciate the patience and support from everyone. This has become an endeavor that means a great deal to both of us, and we are doing our best to ensure this story is enjoyable for all of you.
> 
> Disclaimer – We do not own “the Hobbit” or “Harry Potter.” Neither of us makes money from this story either.

After signing the contract Balin had waiting for her, Hari was allowed to go with Thorin, Acacia, and Balin to attend the reading of the map. The king-in-exile had suggested it, knowing another set of eyes and ears would be useful when it came to remembering the details uncovered during the reading. 

“Stand by the grey stone when the thrush knocks and the setting sun with the last light of Durin's Day will shine upon the key-hole? If what we have read is correct, then the Company needs to be at Erebor at that date. I must confess that I have no idea when Durin's Day is,” Elrond admitted, sorting though his memories to see if he had heard anything about that particular day. 

“You would not be familiar with the holidays of Durin’s Folk, Elrond, because Uncle Maedhros was linked to the Broadbeam clan of Belegost,” Hari commented dryly, earning a gentle smack in the back of her head from the half-elf in turn. She grinned at the silent reminder that he was her elder in this life instead of the other way around as it had been in the past. 

“It is in October this year; we need to cover a fair amount of distance every day so we do not miss this chance. Having to wait another full year would be a significant risk to my people and Hari,” Thorin said with a great deal of concern in his voice. 

“I had wanted to be at Erebor on Durin’s Day anyway,” he continued once he managed to recover from his worries about his people and the young woman who meant a great deal to his clan. “It’s an important holiday to the Longbeards, and it seemed like the best day to choose for the day of our return home.”

The elf lord nodded, mind racing with a variety of thoughts and ideas.

“I shall have the supplies for your company readied,” Elrond stated. “I know Saruman will be here by this evening, Mithrandir, so we must be ready to distract him. Thorin, he must see your company when he arrives so he will not send people out looking for you.”

“We can depart sometime in the middle of the night once we’ve been seen,” the dwarf agreed. 

“Hari knows another way out of the valley,” the taller male shared. “Once you are ready and fully equipped, she can lead you out of Imladris and towards the Misty Mountains.” 

“Make sure to keep Uncle Maglor hidden as well. I fear what may happen if he is spotted, given how Saruman has acted of late according to you and the others,” Hari said in a voice that held notes of worry and pleading. Elrond, who wished to keep his foster-father safe, nodded in agreement with her suggestion. 

Hearing that the company would leave that night, Lindir and the other servants did their best to almost literally swept away anything that could hint to Hari or Maglor being in Imladris. Her personal items was moved to other rooms and made to seem like they had been there all along; a few of her books even taken by Estel as he could use them in his schooling or just for reading. Maglor, thankfully, did not mind being hidden away in his guest room for the time Saruman would be there; he tended to sleep a lot anyway in order to try and regain strength. 

“As much as the Valar and the All-Father may not listen to the prayers of a descendant of Fëanor, I will still pray that this journey will end well for you and the Company. It is the least I can do while staying here,” Maglor said while Hari was in his room to tell of her departure. 

“Do me a big favour and remain alive for a while longer, uncle. I would like you to be there for any important events that take place in the future. You did promise me to give us time to build a relationship again. This way you’ll be able to give my father a big headbutt as a rather belated greeting from the living world as well as hold it over him that you managed to rebuild our bond,” she smiled, causing him to laugh a dry laugh.

“Or teasing him about seeing you in a lovely green dress and emerald jewelry that matches your eyes as you celebrate retaking Erebor. I’d love to be able to lord it over him that I danced with you at your wedding.”

“Uncle!” 

Maglor did not mind the pillow he got tossed into his face for that comment. He was happy to see that she smiled as well. Recalling how volatile things had been between Celebrimbor and Curufin at their last meeting in life where he had disowned his father, Maglor thought that his brother deserved some small humiliation from his own son to flatten that overgrown ego of his. 

Truthfully, it was fun teasing her about a possible wedding and hoped she would finally claim or be claimed by her dwarf. He’d seen the look on her face when they’d discussed Narvi and the dwarf who was his reincarnation. Maglor just hoped that this Fili would be able to pull her head out of her crafts and lift her from the self esteem issues that had stemmed from the family who had raised her in her old world. 

When Saruman arrived, Thorin and Elrond pretended to have a minor argument about a possible trade agreement between Imladris and Durin’s Folk, even borrowing one of Estel’s more poorly done math tests as a parchment for it. Thorin faked taking huge offense when Elrond raised an eyebrow in pretended disagreement and stormed off to where the Company awaited him and Hari. 

“Dwarves, stubborn as the stone they were created from,” Elrond said, which was a signal to Lindir to smuggle Hari though the house. 

“No doubt. I see no reason for why Aulë even created them in the first place; they are a waste of time.”

That was clearly a step over a deadly thin line. Elrond could only pray that none of the servants present would repeat that to the Company, having their existence questioned by a Maia of their Maker was a mortal insult like nothing else. It was all he could do to hide his own anger at those callous words.

Thankfully, Hari, Acacia, and the dwarves were already on the way out of the valley and would not hear of the offensive comment. The witch led them to the mountains using the roads she knew so well from the seven years she had lived there.

“Let’s try and get as far as we can today. That wizard is better off far away from us,” Hari said while helping Acacia climb up through a narrow hole in the mountain wall. As expected, Bombur nearly got stuck but a hearty push from behind helped him get free. 

“You need to lose a little of that stomach, brother,” Bofur joked from somewhere behind his big frame. 

“You’re just jealous of his nice belly,” Acacia said, teasing Bofur while defending her friend. “He was the one who had all the lasses asking him to dance at the wedding in the Shire.”

It never ceased to amaze the dwarrow who made the trips to the Shire just how sought after Bombur was by the unattached maidens. While a stocky figure was appreciated by dwarrow, the rounder figure was prized by hobbits and it had flustered the dwarf just how often he was approached.

Nori chuckled when he spotted the pinked cheeks under the heavy beard when the hobbit’s words were heard.

“True enough, Bofur,” he added, steadying his younger brother.

The company chuckled as they headed towards the mountains, navigating the rocky hills, and both females were grateful for the excellent dark vision the dwarrow had as it helped them stay on the path.

Thorin called a halt once they had put a good amount of distance between themselves and Rivendell. He knew the Misty Mountains were not safe to travel in the dark, even with their ability to see at night, and he would not put Acacia and Hari at risk.

“Let’s get a fire going,” he ordered, setting his pack onto the ground. “We’ll eat and rest for now. Traveling at night in these mountains isn’t safe due to the trails and the creatures that wander at night. Bombur, see about a meal.”

The group scattered, setting up the camp. As they did this, Hari went looking for firewood and soon found Kili beside her. The archer helped gather what wood could be found, knowing they needed enough to last through the night.

“Doing all right, Hari?”

“Tired but doing fine,” she answered. “I’m glad to be away from Saruman honestly; it’s never a good thing when both Elrond and Glorfindel are worried.”

The dwarf nodded; Fili had been concerned too, and his brother had been relieved to find Hari was going with them. He was just waiting to see how long it would take before Fili remembered just what they were facing at the end of the quest.

“Hopefully Saruman avoids bothering Estel; from what I heard from the servants, he has been questioning Elrond’s fostering of his ancestors for a while now. Rather stupid since they are the last remaining descendants of his twin brother Elros after all. It’s only natural he would want to have that branch of the family close by even if they are long-lived mortals,” Hari revealed when they walked back to camp, both carrying firewood to use during the rest of the night. 

The meal passed with pleasant chatter, and Hari was called upon to share stories from her time at Hogwarts as well as her past life. She was happy to do so, keeping to the happier memories that often portrayed herself and her friends as the occasional mischief makers.

As it grew late, Thorin broke into the conversation, knowing he needed to break this up for now since they would all need to be properly rested for tomorrow’s journey.

“Bifur, you take the first watch shift. Kili, you are after him as you were smart enough to take a nap earlier today. Nori, I’d like you to take the last watch.” 

No one was surprised when Hari and Acacia fell asleep close to each other with Thorin on Acacia’s other side. They all agreed that it was better to keep the two ladies close together since it would be easier to protect them that way. 

It didn’t escape the company’s notice that Fili was close to Hari as well; the blond warrior was never too far from his friend, not that they could blame him for being reluctant to allow her to leave his eye-line. If it hadn’t been for the fact that Acacia had threatened to never cook for them again, they would be taking wagers on how long it would be before the young prince approached the small witch to ask her to be allowed to court her.

Balin frowned a moment as Dori commented on something similar to him before retiring for the night; it had brought up a point he hadn’t thought of and had mulled over for a good portion of the night before falling asleep. He’d woken up with the same problem in his thoughts and finally came to a conclusion that would work well. The lass had no family here so he wasn’t certain who Fili would approach for permission whenever he pulled his courage together to initiate courtship. The adviser knew that Hari was protected by the royal family and the entire Longbeard clan, but there was no one to really speak for her.

“Brother, can we speak,” he asked, rising to his feet once he’d finished eating breakfast. Dwalin followed him a bit away.

“Hari may be the Door-maker reborn but as an orphaned lass, she needs the protection of a family,” the eldest began.

“Aye, that she does. She’ll be protected by the Line of Durin, but she needs family to help with things. Like as not, Fili might actually get off his arse and court her. She’ll need someone to be there to guide her through the rituals around that since her past self was a bit too air-headed to spot the signs when Narvi attempted,” the tattooed dwarf stated.

There were times his brother surprised him by his ability to observe and understand the cultural and political maneuverings going on around him. Most warriors were focused on protecting and didn’t pay attention to anything beyond potential threats to their lord.

“Exactly that,” Balin nodded. “I think we could be good for her, and Mahal knows we’re both fond of her.”

Dwalin nodded. Adoption of orphans was not unheard off in their culture; it generally provided the opportunity to give someone a new family and security without changing the name given by the birth parents. 

“Aye, it’s a good idea. I think we should do it,” he told his brother. “Do we have something to give her once the ritual is complete?”

Balin smiled, reaching into an inner pocket and revealing a small gold key decorated with tiny diamonds on a chain. It had been a good luck-charm of their late mother, Eira, who had claimed that she had met their father, Fundin, the very same morning that she had bought the necklace at the market. According to both, it had felt like a key fitting into a lock as the two had gotten to know each other. 

“What do you think?”

This was the only item they had of their mother, and Dwalin knew it would be treasured by Hari. He rubbed a hand over his face and nodded.

“It’s perfect, and I know she’ll appreciate it,” he answered his brother. “I think our mother would approve as well; she always wanted a daughter to spoil.”

“Aye, I believe she would too,” Balin agreed. “Let’s see if we can pull her aside and discuss this with her before we start traveling again. Wait here, Dwalin.”

The warrior waited as the elder headed into camp and returned a short while later with Hari, who looked rather curious. The dwarves didn’t speak until Balin and the witch were sitting down, and then the adviser began to explain why they had drawn her away from the others.

“My brother and I discussed something that we want to offer to you; during your tales, you have mentioned being without family in your old world?”

Hari nodded, answering his question softly.

“My parents were killed when I was a year old,” she said. “I refused to claim my mother’s family as my own because of how they treated me, and I know they never accepted me either. From what I understand, my aunt was incredibly jealous of my mother, her younger sister. As far as Celebrimbor’s family is concerned, Maglor is the only one still in Middle Earth that I know of since I left neither spouse or child of my own at my death. The rest of my direct paternal relatives were all long dead at the time of said event. That relationship is slowly rebuilding due to how the family treated me when I refused to take the oath regarding the Silmarils. Why do you ask?”

“My brother and I were discussing things and would like to become your family,” Balin told her.

This was not what Hari had expected to hear. She recalled some faint memories of such adoption ceremonies around the time after a serious mining accident had occurred, leaving several dwarflings orphaned, but she knew Celebrimbor had not observed any during his time with the Longbeards.

“Are you certain this is what you both want? I know there is no breaking it once the adoption ritual is complete and the king gives his blessing,” she asked.

“Wouldn’t have offered it if we didn’t want it and weren’t sure,” Dwalin answered in his usual blunt manner. “You have a stout heart that’s loyal, and that’s something important to us.”

“We wish to give you a family while gaining something we both have wanted for a long time,” the elder son of Fundin said.

“What is that?”

“A sister,” Balin smiled. “As you know, dwarrowdams are not plentiful and our mother was told not to try again after Dwalin was born since his size gave her difficulty during his birthing. We both were rather jealous of Thorin for being blessed with a sister.”

“Even though she’s insane,” the warrior grumbled, making his brother huff at him and Hari giggle. “But Balin is right, this isn’t something we will regret once it’s done.”

“I was jealous of my friend, Ron, because he has such a big family,” Hari admitted to them. “I gained a brother and sister in him and Hermione, but it wasn’t a legal or official thing, just a heart bond.”

“Nothing wrong with heart-family,” the balding dwarf replied. “You’ll gain two brothers and cousins along with that. You’ll be wanting a moment’s peace whenever you finally meet Dis, and Mahal knows the lads can be annoying at times too.”

“Kili and Fili remind me of Fred and George,” she answered while giggling. “Ron’s twin brothers were incredibly mischievous though Fili is quite a bit more serious when compared to the twins.”

Hari drew in a deep breath before continuing, focusing herself on being properly somber for this. 

“I would like to join your family,” she shared, making them smile.

“Right, we’d best let Thorin and Oin know so we can perform the ceremony,” Balin said, looking incredibly pleased. He hoped that this would prove to be another good omen for the Longbeard clan in terms of getting back their former glory and home. The mere presence of the reborn Celebrimbor seemed to be one already, but there was nothing wrong with more blessings.

The trio returned to camp, and the elder brother pulled both of his cousins aside to inform them for Hari’s adoption into the line of Farin. Oin and Thorin were pleased and agreed to help with the ceremony since the dwarf lord’s blessing at the end would be needed.

Oin went through his pack to pull out the ceremonial items he kept with him as he knew that one could never be over prepared for journeys like this. As a healer, he knew that injuries and even death could happen and he wanted to be certain the company had access to any religious rites a Reader could provide.

None of the priests of Mahal had been able to accompany the king and his company which meant Oin was not just the healer but would have to take up the duties that would normally fall upon a priest. Since he was blessed with the ability to divine the future through rune stones and other means, he had been trained to fill in for a priest of Mahal should one be needed and not be around at that time.

“Acacia, please help Hari mark her face with this red ocher. You should recall the lines Dis marked you with at your coming-of-age celebration we had for you when the priests had you go through the ceremony to provide more proof that you are worthy to become a queen at Thorin’s side,” he instructed.

“I do,” the hobbit acknowledged, remembering that ceremony. It had taken place when she’d come of age in the Shire, though it had thrown a lot of dwarrow off since hobbits came of age sooner than the Children of Mahal.

She drew Hari off to the side and combed her hair, loosening the braids that the young woman had bound her hair in. As she did this, Acacia explained why this was necessary.

“During a certain part of the ceremony, Balin and Dwalin will put a family braid in your hair. That braid will be yours to wear until you pass on to the Halls of Mandos,” she told her. “According to what I was taught, that braid will be proof that you are allowed into Mahal’s Halls to rejoin your loved ones.”

“I recall the family braids I often saw on my dwarf friends. Narvi used to have one as well as his mastery braids,” Hari answered. “He used to tie the whole mess back whenever he was working. I used to tease him about it, and he’d threaten to dye my hair.”

“Dwarrow have braids for quite a few things; it surprised me to learn just how many there are when Lady Dis gave me a deeper insight of all the different meanings for the braids,” the hobbit said with a smile, brushing the dark hair off of the witch’s face so she could begin painting the other’s face.

Hari took the chance to tell what she remembered of the dwarrowdams’ gowns and hair styles back in the Second Age. In general, the royal ladies, be it by birth or marriage, tended to be the trendsetters when it came to the female fashion even if one could add personal touches on the dresses to make them unique. 

“Hobbits are typically less elaborate in their formal wear,” Acacia shared. “It was a bit of a shock when Dis decided I needed better clothing the first time I went to Ered Luin to announce the treaty and betrothal. I went with Thorin and the others after the treaty was signed. I didn’t want to do it because I knew the people were having issues with food, and it didn’t seem right to waste money on clothing when things were so grim.” 

“How did she handle your concerns?”

“Rather well,” she answered. “She reminded me that there would be a few formal events that would require me being a bit more dressed up in order to bring honor to the family I was to marry into. We compromised on it by letting me order the fabric from home so it wouldn’t put strain on the people of Ered Luin. Neither of us told Thorin, but my grandfather paid for the materials.”

“Wise decision,” Hari murmured, trying not to move as the other painted her face. It pained her to hear how the proud dwarrow of Durin’s Folk had fallen from glory in this manner. It was all because of the cursed Rings of Power and a dragon.

“We thought so, and it’s taken some compromise between myself and Lady Dis to make things right while following tradition. I’ve had a lot to learn, and I do my best. A trade agreement between hobbits and dwarrow was a good idea since it provides food for the dwarrow and allows good dwarven smiths into the Shire to help hobbits fix their tools when needed. Hobbits are able to trade with properly sized people who will treat us with respect as well as gain protection when the rangers are not enough to keep our borders safe,” the hobbit answered with a half shrug. “I’m just glad Thorin and I get along since a marriage was needed to make the treaty a binding one.”

“You and Thorin are a good match. I may not remember all the tinier details from my past life, but I know a perfect couple when I spot one. I believe that you two are one of them. I can already imagine that there will be no worries about the royal succession once the children starts arriving if the rumors of hobbit fertility is true.”

Acacia laughed nervously, before telling that her maternal grandparents had the highest known number of children among the Hobbits, twelve in total with nine sons and three daughters. She also shared why a lot of people had been surprised when her mother Belladonna only had ended up having a single child, Acacia herself. 

“The succession is assured as Fili is Thorin’s heir and Kili is head over heels in love with a dwarrowdam who can keep up with him,” she said after explaining about her family. “While my children will be titled, they won’t be in line for the throne because of their mixed blood. Fili said before that Kili’s children will most likely be where he chooses his heir from. The dwarrow may be somewhat accepting of marriages between their race and another, but I know they won’t be pleased with a half dwarf on the throne.”

“I don’t remember hearing about any issue with children of mixed blood,” the witch said. “Then again, it was rare to see children near Narvi’s workshop.”

“Not safe for them around forges,” Acacia answered, putting the finishing touches on the face paint. “They don’t start developing their resistance to heat until they are much older so apprenticeships for those who work around forges or heat often don’t start until the late teens, early twenties. There we go, all done.”

“I don’t look stupid, do I?” 

“Absolutely not,” the hobbit said with a smile. “Come, the others should be ready for the ritual now.”

In a way, Hari could understand why it was rather unlikely to have a reigning monarch of mixed blood on the throne. The fear of that the non-dwarf parent, being more short-lived than his or her dwarven spouse, would pass on the shorter life expectancy instead of the longer time dwarrow enjoyed. There was also a bigger risk that such children could fall victims to illnesses which would not harm a full-blooded dwarf. Well, at least Acacia would help to expand the royal family once she started to have children. With some luck, she and Thorin would be blessed with several daughters. A couple of royal princesses would be considered blessings to the family and clan, raising the spirits of the Longbeards.

Oin had ensured everything needed for the ceremony was ready, and the two women found the company sitting in a half circle to face the Reader and two brothers. Acacia took a seat between Thorin and Fili while Hari stepped towards the trio waiting for her.

“Even as our Maker was crafting us from stone, He knew that we would be able to see the beauty within others and created ways for us to add to our families should we find someone who carries the strength and heart to match the ideals of our bloodlines. Today, the sons of Fundin wish to add Harriet Potter to their line, claiming her as family. Balin, son of Fundin, son of Farin, why do you seek to add this woman into your line?”

“She has a core of mithril, a heart softer than shale, and a mind sharper than dwarven steel,” the white haired dwarf informed him. “Harriet Potter has proven herself to be as loyal to our people as her former self was when he befriended the dwarrow of Khazad-dûm. We seek to protect and love her as she deserves.”

“You will accept the responsibilities that come with adding a daughter to your line?”

“I accept them,” Balin replied. “I will guide her whenever she is need of wisdom and advice, encourage her in craft and life, and cherish her as the gem of our house and line.”

“Dwalin, son of Fundin, son of Farin, will you accept the responsibilities that come with adding a daughter to your line?”

“Aye, I accept them,” the burly warrior told Oin. “I will protect her and teach her to protect herself as a daughter of Fundin should. I will be there in whatever way she needs to me be.”

Oin poured wine into a silver chalice that was used for many rituals he had learned over the years. Once done, he handed Balin a silver and sapphire knife. The king’s adviser spoke the ritual words as he drew the sharp edge of the dagger across the palm of his right hand. 

“Mahal created us to bring beauty to those who cannot see the worth of the materials we use; He granted us the strength to protect those of our hearts. By my blood and before my Maker, King, and kin, I do gift my love and guidance to the one my heart calls sister,” he said, handing the knife to Dwalin while he went on to the next step and held his hand out to Oin.

The Reader placed a finger into the pooling blood and drew a rune on Hari’s forehead, speaking as he did so.

“Balin, son of Fundin, will be your eldest brother. He will guide and teach you as you make your way through this life,” he said. 

Once the rune was drawn, Dwalin removed a knuckle duster and also drew the blade across the softer part of his palm. He made no sound of pain, simply speaking as he passed the blade back to Oin.

“Mahal granted our bodies strength so that we may protect those we love and those weaker who need our protection. He created our hearts to be loyal so that we will never abandon family or duty. By my blood and before my Maker, King, and kin, I do gift my strength and loyalty to the one my heart calls sister.”

The wounded hand was held out to the Reader, who dipped a finger into the blood to draw another rune beside the first one.

“Dwalin, son of Fundin, will be your next oldest brother. He will defend you with the strength his arm and heart grants him as well as remain steadfastly by your side,” he told her. 

After the rune was drawn, both brothers placed the injured hands over the goblet, allowing blood to drop into the wine. The pair spoke in unison, chanting something they had been taught but had never thought to use.

“Our blood to your blood, our name to yours,” they stated. “We are the sons of Fundin, son of Farin, whose blood goes back to Durin.”

Once they had done so, they drew back and Oin turned his attention to the lass in front of him. He held the dagger out to her, watching as she drew the sharp edge over the soft skin of her palm. Once blood had been drawn, Hari placed her hand over the goblet and spoke the words that came to mind.

“My blood to your blood, my name to yours, and my magic to aid you in times of need,” she said firmly. “I am the daughter of James, son of Fleamont, whose blood goes back to the Peverells. I carry the soul of Celebrimbor, friend of the line of Durin, and I also vow that name to yours.”

The goblet was handed to Balin first, who took several mouthfuls before speaking.

“Blood to blood, name to name, may our hearts carry this bond in this life and throughout the others until the world is remade.” 

Dwalin did the same, drinking some of the blood-wine before repeating his brother’s words. Hari was then handed the goblet, waiting as the pair spoke in unison once more.

“As we have taken what you have shared with us, now take what we are gifting to you. Before Mahal, our king, and kin, we name you Jewel Dancer, daughter of Fundin, son of Farin. May He, our king, and kin judge us righteously should our oaths ever fail.”

Oin’s voice was firm.

“Their oaths have been heard, secret name given. Will you accept blood, name, and all that comes with it?”

Her voice was equally firm, allowing her magic to flow freely as she accepted the gifts given to her as well as allowing her power to seal the blood adoption.

“As you have taken what I have shared so shall I take what you have offered,” she began. “Before Mother Magic, the elements that bind us all, and the Valar of Arda, I vow to love and protect those I call family. As I will it so mote it be.”

She drank after sealing her vow with the traditional ritual response she’d learned during her years of researching at Hogwarts. Hari could feel her magic flare in response to her oath and determination, binding her heart and blood to the two dwarrow who had granted her a family. A light surrounded all three of them for a moment and when it dissipated, the runes were gone and injuries healed.

“Balin and Dwalin, sons of Fundin, grant your sister the braid that will tell all who meet her what family she is from,” Thorin said, watching as both dwarrow created two small braids before twisting them together and sealing it with a bead that bore Farin’s mark and Durin’s seal.

“Welcome, Jewel Dancer, to the line of Durin,” he continued once the braiding was done. “I welcome our cousin to our line and congratulate all three of you for joining your hearts as family.” 

That was the final moment, and then the trio were mobbed by the rest of the company. Everyone wanted to offer their congratulations, and Hari, who had wanted family so badly growing up, could only bask in the knowledge that Dwalin and Balin had chosen her.

Twice she had lost her birth families in different manners, events which had haunted her in both her lives. Yet now, with this adoption into a new family, Hari hoped that the pattern would finally be broken and she would be able to remain with her new relatives all her life. If they only could get rid of the shadow Sauron had cast upon her as a threat because of her past life, then she might actually feel free to fully enjoy her new family and friends.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Authors’ End Note – We hope everyone enjoyed this installment of the story. Thank you so much for reading, and please share your thoughts with us. We take inspiration from the comments you leave. Take care, and see you next chapter! ~Rogercat and Laran

**Author's Note:**

> Author’s End Note – We thank you so much for taking a chance on this story and hope that you will continue to join us for the adventure. Please let us know what you thought of the tale. See you all next week! ~ Laran and Rogercat.


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